


The Stars Shine No Longer

by garylovesjohn



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Biting, Blood and Gore, Breeding, Canonical Character Death, Childbirth, Come Inflation, Come Shot, Come Vomiting, Come as Lube, Creampie, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Elves, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Evil Wins, F/M, Felching, Forced Orgasm, Forced Pregnancy, Implied/Referenced Torture, Lactation Kink, Loss of Virginity, Marking, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Orcs, Painful Sex, Porn With Plot, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Rough Kissing, Scars, Size Difference, Stabbing, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicidal Thoughts, Teratophilia, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25149478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garylovesjohn/pseuds/garylovesjohn
Summary: Tauriel is taken prisoner by Bolg after the Orcs win the Battle of the Five Armies.
Relationships: Bolg (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 82





	1. The Ruins of Ravenhill

**Author's Note:**

> From 2015.  
> Reposted due to demand.  
> Don't sub to me hoping for more Tolkien fics, I'm no longer part of the fandom.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Tauriel tastes the full humiliation of defeat.  
> Warning : non-con, blood, biting, loss of virginity, forced voyeurism, death of canon character

Tauriel's eyes fluttered open. She tried standing up, but dizziness kept her down momentarily. She had passed out for a few minutes after her fight against Bolg, spawn of Azog the Defiler. He threw her against the rocky cliff and the last thing she saw was him driving the sharp end of his mace into the heart of Kíli. The shock of the events after such an intense battle was enough to knock her unconscious.

As her blurred vision cleared, she saw the Dwarf's body before her, laying in a pool of cold blood, bright red against the snow. She inched towards him, tears rolling down her pale cheeks, but a sudden noise caught her attention and she froze.

She first saw his silhouette, a threatening, towering shade in the mists of Ravenhill.

Bolg came back in her direction, holding Legolas by his blond locks, dragging him on the ground.

The Elf prince was bound with ropes and chains, a ragged cloth gagging his mouth. Without a doubt, he had been roughed up by the altercation with his opponent, his nose bleeding profusely all over his green tunic. He struggled in vain as the powerful Orc threw him to the side in a grunt.

The monster's gaze then fell upon Tauriel, smiling to see her awake, and her heart sank.

Quickly reaching for her belt, she found herself unarmed, much to her dismay. She tried standing up to flee, but Bolg was soon upon her, clearing the few metres between them in a mere stride.

He yanked her by the hair and pulled her up.

She felt nauseous and fear momentarily paralyzed her whole body, she couldn't even find her voice to scream.

This was the end, she thought as she prayed for a quick death.

However, sounds of battle alerted the fiend and he dragged her towards the cliff. She felt certain he had the intention of throwing her down the ravine to her ruin.

She clung to his powerful arm with all desperation. Yet he just held her firmly as he stared towards where the noise originated from and thus Tauriel glanced in the same direction, intrigued.

Looking down below, on the surface of the frozen lake, she could see Azog, the foul beast who had fathered the very Orc who was now clutching her into submission.

Pitted in a one-on-one combat against Thorin, the Defiler made quick work of his undersized opponent.

Wielding a massive bolas, he swept his unsure feet straight off the ice. Before the Dwarf even had time to recuperate from the fall, the colossal monster swung his weapon again in brute strength and the enormous rock met Oakenshield's chest in a loud thud, shattering it.

Blood spilled on the glacial expanse around him as Orcrist fell out of his hand with a reverberating clank. As far away as they were, Tauriel caught every details of the massacre with fearful eyes.

The king under the mountain lifted his weak, trembling hands in one final attempt to grab his enemy in all desperation, but Azog's bladed arm met his neck, cutting the head clean off in a single blow.

The Elf let out a pitiful wail at the sight while Bolg laughed darkly.

The pale Orc lifted the severed part in a triumphant growl which echoed within the creak. His armies responded in a guttural clamour, as deafening as it was terrifying, and their leader marched onward to rejoin them, his bloody prize in hand.

They had won.

Tauriel cried in fear and indignation.

The Orcs had won.

She heard horns resounding, the few Elves, Dwarves, and Men still alive were retreating towards the Iron Hills, led by Dáin Ironfoot. The legions of monsters rallied to the victorious Azog, slaughtering all that stood in their path.

Erebor was lost.

With victory at hand and knowing his father safe, Bolg dragged his sobbing captive further back, glaring at Legolas still struggling in vain against his bindings, mumbling curses in the gag.

Tauriel grunted as her hair was nearly pulled out from her scalp by the brutish creature.

When he put his hands upon her breasts, squeezing them hard, before tearing her green tunic off with his claws, she screamed, "No! Don't you dare touch me, filth!" her voice shrill with unabated terror. She trashed against the tall Orc in a panicked frenzy, but this only resulted in her being slapped hard across the face.

She fell down onto the cold ground, almost cracking her head upon the stone. Her garment in shreds fell off her torso and she shivered in the freezing air, goosebumps covering every inch of her body as her nipples hardened almost painfully.

Stunned by the hit, she tried crawling away, but barely had time to lift her eyes to meet Legolas' gaze before Bolg grabbed her by the belt and dragged her towards himself.

With a swift move of the dagger he had disrobed from the Elf prince earlier, he cut the leather cincture and slid her pants down to her knees before seizing her long, fiery locks again and pulling her up to her feet.

He quickly used whatever scraps of cloth she had left hanging upon her milky arms to tie them together.

She attempted struggling, but was pressed firmly against him, the serrated plates embedded into his flesh bit into her back painfully. There was nothing she could do. Even as he turned her around, she could not afford to move much.

Now face to face with his monstrosity, Tauriel dared not look upon his grotesque, metal-clad head. She blushed deeply, feeling his hungering gaze upon her exposed body.

Without warning, he pressed his lips to hers. She yelped in surprise and his tongue quickly found its way into her mouth as she did.

She wanted to bite, but gagged instead, not only at the revolting taste of dried blood in his maw, but also at the size of the appendage which nearly lapped at the back of her throat.

Tears fell upon her flushed cheeks. Her first kiss should have been tender and loving. This one was rough, awful, and felt absolutely disgusting. Luckily for her, he quickly pulled away with a chuckle.

Tauriel gasped for air, struggling not to disgorge, as she was firmly pressed to her knees, prickling her left cheek on his armour on the way down.

He grunted something at her, she could not understand. However, as he pulled his erection from underneath his loincloth of metal and contorted leather faces, she had a good idea of what he had just told her.

His member was quite horrific to behold, prominent black veins coursed under smooth, pale skin adorned with cruel metal jewellery.

She pressed her lips together as hard as she could, fighting the urge to retch at his pungent smell invading her nostrils as he rubbed his hard, throbbing flesh onto her face. Precome was already oozing abundantly from the tip, trickling down her chin.

He yanked at her hair and gave her a sharp slap, yet she did not falter. Annoyed and impatient, he pinched her nose between two large, dirty fingers.

The Elf winced, tears in her eyes, she could no longer breathe. She resisted for as long as she could, choking and cussing between her teeth, but she promptly had to gasp for air and, as soon as her lips parted, Bolg's large member invaded her mouth.

He let go of her face, his other hand still grasping at her red locks. He pushed her head further down until he heard choking and felt her squirm pitifully in protest, her forehead now pressed against his abdomen.

Had she eaten anything that day, it would have been on the ground now but, being on an empty stomach, she could only gag as drool dripped down her chin and onto her heaving chest, making her even colder. She could feel her own heartbeat, pounding so hard it resonated within her head.

The Orc pulled away momentarily, letting her take a deep breath before filling her mouth again. He didn't want her to faint, not before he had his fun. He threw a dark glance towards Legolas who had averted his eyes from the horrible scene by now, but he could not prevent hearing the gruesome noises of it. The wet coughing and spurting of his companion and the lustful grunts of the fiend.

Tauriel struggled and moaned in rage as Bolg relentlessly took her mouth. As wide open as she could, he was just so large, her jaw hurt as her teeth scraped against his sensitive flesh.

Still he found the hint of pain absolutely delightful.

She couldn't help but swallow hard in order not to choke, unwillingly pleasuring the Orc greatly by doing so. Her throat constricted around him and the suction felt blissful.

Out of the countless women he had raped in his life, she was by far the best at this.

Tauriel looked up at his repugnant face, her vision blurred by tears, yet burning with hatred. The taste of him was strong, a vile mix of rancid sourness, acrid with a metallic sapor.

When he finally pulled away, she felt the flavour would never leave her tongue. Nauseous, she gagged and spat Elvish curses at him.

Bolg laughed at the lamentable sight of her. Face bright red and stained with tears, a runny nose with her chin covered in spit dripping in long tendrils, hair in a wild mess, amber eyes swollen. He loved seeing defaced Elves. She was much more beautiful now than she ever was before. Humiliating her was far sweeter than torturing her.

He lifted Tauriel back up onto her shaky legs in a growl and licked off the mess of saliva that still clung to her trembling lips.

She let out a groan of disgust, turning her head away from him.

He laughed, even now the She-Elf was still defiant. He slowly trailed his tongue down her neck, tasting the salt of her skin. His large hands cupped her firm rear as his torn, dry lips found their way to her chest. She was so small compared to him, he could easily take a whole breast into his mouth and hungrily suckled on it.

Feeling his sharp teeth pressed dangerously against her tender flesh as well as the spikes of his armour pointing onto her bare stomach, she swallowed hard and tried to remain as immobile as possible despite Bolg's rough ministrations.

His tongue swirled over her sensitive nipples, slurping shamelessly and panting as he moved from one breast to the other.

He eventually sank to his knees, licking at her stomach on the way down.

She found it odd that he would kneel before her, but as he pressed his large jaw between her silky legs, a scream tore out of her, "No! Don't you dare! Do not put your disgusting..." she lost her words as his rasp tongue was pushed inside of her, licking at her intimacy, squirming against it.

Bolg looked up, savouring her taste as he stared upon her face, the auburn curls of her sex on his blunt snout. One of his large hands toyed with her breasts, trailing his claws against their elegant curve, pinching the flushed nipples, as the other still held onto her rear so she would not fall backward from him so insistently pressing his head between her thighs. He was pleased to discover that she was already dripping wet onto his tongue, unwillingly aroused by his touch and from having her mouth forcefully taken a moment ago.

He knew she felt good despite her protests, her body was betraying her. Just as she was about to reach her peak from his monstrous mouth slurping so mercilessly, he stopped and stood back up before her.

Trembling, Tauriel silently thanked the powers that be that the fiend had stopped before she actually came. She could not fathom this happening. The mere thought of being pleasured by an Orc was unbearable.

He turned her around once again, pressing himself into her back, knowing she could not struggle against the metal in his body. Holding her already bound arms with one firm hand, he leaned her forward a bit and slid his eager erection inside in one hard push.

Her body, wet and willing, accepted the large intrusion, but her mind fervently denied the awful experience. The Elf lost her breath at the sensation.

He was so big, too big for her, and when he picked up a steady pace, she felt as if she was being punched in the stomach from the inside.

She cried, her sobs loud and imploring. This was her first time, she had never been with a man before, had only experienced pleasure by her own hands on lonely nights.

Her thoughts immediately went to Kíli, now laying dead not too far from here, thankful she could not see the corpse from where she was. She had hoped for her first time to be with him, the one she loved. Instead, his life had been cruelly snuffed from him before they even had shared a kiss. Now, the very Orc who murdered her beloved, who had robbed her of her first kiss and took it all for himself earlier, was now robbing her of her virginity as well.

She had lost everything, this precious innocence, this chance at happiness. She had nothing left but this punishment now.

Bolg pressed his free hand to her sex, making sure her sweet spot would rub against his calloused fingers with every push of his shaft inside of her.

Quickly, the pain of being so full turned to a pleasurable sensation, sending her body ablaze.

He whispered something into her ear, his gruff voice filled with lust.

She was glad she could not understand his words. Hearing whatever obscenities he dared uttering at her would only add insult to injury and make her even more appalled. Although she felt revulsion had already reached its paroxysm when he first laid hand upon her.

He was just so big and strong, plowing mercilessly into her with his rugged fingers sending jolts through her entire body as she was rocked against them with every shove.

Her muscles began to tense and she clenched her teeth. She knew she wouldn't be able to contain the feeling taking over her whole being now.

She would come.

Such a repulsive monster would make her come.

She tried in vain to free herself but, even with just one hand, he held her without trouble. Her pants hindered her legs and it was only his firm grip upon her arms, as well as his large digits so firmly pressed to her sensitivity, that prevented her from plummeting forward onto her face. Every attempt to move ground her fragile skin against his notched armour and hurt her greatly, slicing into her exposed lower back. She felt the horrible cuts trickling along the curve of her rear.

Smelling her blood and her arousal all at once made the experience even more pleasurable for Bolg. He knew, feeling how tight she had become, how she writhed in protest, she was about to climax. He quickened his already frantic pace.

The sudden gain in brutality took her by surprise and she came hard in a breathless gasp. She closed her eyes as her mind went blank, it was nothing like she'd experienced by herself ever before. It felt as it would never end, her whole body tremorred and her wet flesh pulsated and tightened painfully around the huge Orc inside of her. Lost in a daze of pleasure, she moaned lewdly and it was only when Bolg snickered at her reaction that she realized what had just happened.

Tauriel's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red and she instantly looked down, trying to cover her face with her hair. She would have taken pain and torture rather than being pleasured by such a foul creature. Were she to live and be set free, she would never be able to enjoy the company of a man for she would always feel him instead. Feel his large, indurated hands on her soft flesh, his relentless and brutal push inside of her tender nature, his hot breath panting on her nape, his low growls of bliss in her ears, the metallic taste on her lips.

Head hung low in shame, she whimpered.

He left her no time to recover from her orgasm. He kept his brutal motions effortlessly.

She began to wonder if he would ever get tired and feared he might be taking her for hours, "Please stop!" she cried, tears rolling down her flushed cheeks, "Have you not humiliated me enough, beast?" she had no idea if he understood her words, either way she was certain he would ignore them.

Orcs knew nothing of pity.

Bolg smiled at her, licking her wet face with a heavy tongue. The dried, caked blood around his mouth leaving a dark red trace upon her pallor. He grunted loudly, frenetically taking her.

She couldn't believe he was capable of being even more vicious, yet was faced with the horrible reality of it. He was too rough, she could barely breathe, the sheer intensity threatening to drive her mad. She couldn't help but moan and hated herself for it. Sweating despite the cold, she trembled, almost unable to stand, as she came again, harder than before. She would have fainted from the sheer intensity of it was it not for Bolg also reaching his peak and biting the back of her neck down at the same time.

Blood gushed out as his sharp fangs sank into her milky skin. A scream escaped her lips but rapidly died into a mere whine.

He came with total abandon inside of her, she felt his flesh throb, as if squirming in her loins.

She heaved at the horrible sensation.

He just kept ejaculating, an inhuman amount of seed, and she quickly felt bloated as his large member left no room for the liquid to dribble out. His orgasm lasted a long minute that seemed like an eternity to her. His teeth firmly embedded in her nape as he growled and slobbered, tasting her blood and letting pleasure overtake him. His legs shook and he lost balance for a second, his armour cutting deeper into the Elf's already ravaged back.

Tauriel shrieked out and tears welled into her eyes again. She could not tell which was more unbearable at the moment, the unyielding agony or the feeling of being too full of boiling Orc semen. It felt so abnormally hot, his body was burning despite the cold.

She was ruined.

Her skin would eternally bear the scars of her ordeal.

No one would think her fair anymore.

No one would want her knowing she had been tainted so.

Finally, he let go of her, and she plummeted forward, barely having time or enough even strength to catch her fall onto the frozen ground.

As her stomach hit the hard stone, the excess fluid inside of her spurted out and she whimpered in disgust and shame.

Bolg looked down at her gored back, with his seed pooling between her legs, pouring out of her ravaged womanhood gaping open after being so roughed up. A sadistic smile crept upon his deformed features. His mind was set.

A few days prior, he had seen her in Mirkwood, saw her fighting prowess. She was beautiful, he wanted her. She was his prize now, his prisoner of war. He would keep the She-Elf as pet, make her the mother of many bastard whelps. It would be a fitting revenge for her attempt at saving the heir of Durin earlier.

Seeing Tauriel passed out and knowing she would probably be unable to walk even if she managed to free herself, he left her behind. Grabbing his dark mace, Bolg moved on to finish off the Elf prince who bore witness to it all with indignation. His pretty head would make a nice trophy along with the one of Oakenshield's nephew he would claim from his cold remains soon after this.

His father would be proud of him.


	2. In the Halls of the Mountain King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Bolg and Tauriel spend some time in Erebor, now an Orc stronghold.
> 
> Warning : non-con, humiliation, violence, gore, implied cannibalism, come vomiting

Tauriel came back to her senses with a heavy head and instantly shivered in the cold. It took her a moment to remember what had happened or even realizing her situation.

Now entirely nude, with both hands and feet tied, mouth gagged, she was uncomfortably laying over Bolg's left shoulder, his strong arm preventing her from falling down, as he carried her. The bear claws and metal pressed painfully into her bare stomach.

In his right hand was his weapon, caked in red blood, and by his hip hung two mangled heads, one fair haired, the other dark.

She whimpered, both in agony and sadness, as she blushed due to her exposed body. Looking around she saw the battlefield bathed in the last lights of dusk. The smell of death invaded her nose, and ravenous birds were already scavenging the carrion of her fallen brethren.

Orc soldiers looted the corpses, gathering weapons and scraps of armour. Others were helping their wounded comrades or finishing off those too far gone, also delivering killing blows to their dying enemies.

No prisoners.

As Bolg passed through, his kin would bow their head down in respect to him, but leer at the Elf. Some laughed, licking their crooked lips at the sight.

Tauriel tried glancing over her captor's shoulders, her position and bindings making it rather difficult, but she caught a glimpse of Erebor, now so close by. She had no idea why Bolg even kept her alive, why he took her all the way down from Ravenhill to bring her there, especially seeing how nobody would take captives. Her mind raced at the thoughts of torture and being violated by countless Orcs. She breathed deep despite the stench around her, trying to remain calm as panic would only drain what little remained of her strength.

As they crossed the shattered gates of the fallen Dwarven city, the fetor of the dragon mixed with that of the fiends and of death.

Tauriel barely managed to cover her nose, Bolg's powerful stride rocked her too hard to effectively prevent the smell of decay from assaulting her nostrils. Carried down the elevated walkway of the great hall, she could see the monsters already setting up camp below, bringing the wounded in, amassing weapons in corners, and carelessly kicking whatever wealth lain upon the marbled floor.

They had little care for gold.

Some were seemingly having fun with the jewellery, putting it on and making ridiculous gestures. Whether they were imitating women or Elves, she could not tell.

Despite her great fatigue, she pushed herself up on Bolg's shoulder so she could get a peek of what was in front of them. She gazed in horror upon the Defiler, sitting on the scorched throne of Erebor at the centre of the vast room. His arm stump, now free of blade, resting upon what she guessed was Thorin's severed head, bloodied and beaten, the face had been skinned off. The pale Orc's only hand idly stroked the white fur of his Warg, voraciously chewing down a meaty bone by his side.

Her stomach turned as she thought this might be a Dwarf's leg. Eyes trailing away from the beast in disgust, she could see sparkling bits of crystal scattered about the base of the ruined seat. No doubt the invaluable heirloom of Durin's folk, the heart of this very mountain, now shattered to pieces in a final act of scorn.

She wondered for a short moment if they would also destroy the white gems the Elven king had sought to reclaim. She swallowed hard. Did Thranduil still live? Did he know of his son's fate? Her pondering came to a halt as Bolg stopped before the new king under the mountain.

Tauriel was dropped heavily to the floor and let out a pained grunt through her gag.

Her captor threw the two heads that were strung to his hip at his father's feet.

Azog stood up, chest swollen with pride, a cruel smile upon his scourged face. He grasped at his son's nape with his arm, pressing their foreheads together in a low growl. He quickly broke the rough embrace and put a heavy hand upon the taller Orc's metal-clad shoulder. The Defiler gave Tauriel a brief look before speaking to his spawn, no doubt inquiring about her.

Bolg's reply, as he motioned towards the Elf in a dismissing manner, made all the foul creatures within earshot chuckle cruelly, some even making lewd gestures in her direction.

She took a deep breath, flustered, fighting back the tears that dared come. She did not want to appear weak before them.

Azog nodded in approval to his son before collecting the two heads the later had thrown to the floor. He barked a few orders and a small band of Orcs assembled and was quickly dispatched outside after brief instructions.

The Defiler placed both severed heads next to Thorin's before sitting back upon his throne.

Bolg grabbed his captive again as the pack of soldiers passed them by, hauling her over his shoulder as he did before.

The monsters just kept glaring and snickering at Tauriel and he shared a laugh with them before giving a sharp slap to her exposed rear. He carried her to an adjacent quarter, kicking priceless jewellery off the stairs in a disgusted grunt.

Now isolated from the rest, in a dark and dusty room, Bolg threw her to the floor again and left.

She barely had time to undo the bindings on her feet and pull the gag away from her lips that he was coming back. Startled, she found it preferable to run to the back of the compartment and cower in a corner rather than to confront him.

He had brought in a large Warg pelt and a crackling torch to light themselves with. Seeing her standing, shivering and naked, he smiled oddly. He knew she could not escape, even if she tried.

She knew it as well.

He kept his gaze upon the Elf as he set the torch in the wall and carelessly threw the weighty fur onto the floor. He then reached in his back and let out a low hiss.

For a split second, she thought he was simply scratching himself, but she soon heard a metallic rustle and his embedded armour loosened with a crack as he snarled in visible discomfort.

Grabbing at the front, pulling it open further, he freed himself from its cruel grasp and let it fall to the floor in a thunderous clank, leaving no doubt as to how heavy this serrated iron contraption actually was.

Tauriel stared, mouth agape, eyes wide in fear, as the metal was taken out his ruined flesh. Dark, deep gashes cut over his ribs and torso and she could glimpse odd steel prongs, no doubt permanently pierced into his nearly exposed bones, where the armour would be held in place. She felt woozy at the gruesome sight and sat down, hyperventilating, keeping her head low between her scratched knees.

Bolg looked upon her again, bemused and somewhat confused by the intensity of her reaction, before stretching himself longly. His neck and iron backbone emitting pleasant cracks as he growled in satisfaction, so happy to be liberated from his plate after a long battle. He felt vulnerable without it, yet he knew there would be no enemies around, and the little Elf posed no real threat. He soon left once more.

Tauriel dared not move, even though he was gone for a long moment. There was no point in trying to flee. Orcs at every corner, ready to assault her, she found it wiser to just stay put and hope Bolg would show her a certain sense of mercy. As she slowly regained her composure, she looked upon the armour lying on the floor in awe.

She tried to imagine how and why he had been befitted with such a cruel apparatus, yet she could not even begin to grasp the mere idea of it. Still she tried to undo the last of her bindings around her wrists with her teeth to no avail. Perhaps she could cut them off upon the sharp edges of her captor's garment.

Unfortunately, Bolg re-entered the room before she could put her idea into action.

He nonchalantly threw a slab of bloody meat at her feet, "Eat!" was his only word as he himself sat down and devoured his own crude meal.

The disgusting sight and sound of his feast appalled Tauriel and it was a long moment before she realized she had understood his word before. Whether the creature knew proper Westron or just a few words, it was impossible to tell, but she tentatively spoke, "Please, let me go."

Bolg grunted as his only cold blue eye fixated upon her, he swallowed his last bit of food, blood dripping on his chin, "Don't beg. Eat."

Tauriel breathed deep, so he did understand her, "I cannot eat raw meat! How do I know you are not feeding me my own kin?"

Bolg got up, visibly annoyed with her being so difficult, "Maybe you'd prefer eating Orc tonight, is that it, She-Elf?"

Tauriel blinked incredulously a few times, completely oblivious to what he was alluding to, before recoiling in a scream as the came stomping towards her.

Pulling her up to her feet by her red hair, he pushed himself onto her, grunting in passion. Pressing a sloppy, bloody kiss to her face, his mouth nearly swallowing her entire jaw. His claws trailed on her still painful back.

She yelped and struggled as hard as she could, thankful he had no armour on this time, she would not get hurt doing so. Yet, with hands bound in front of her, she could only pitifully hammer at his strong chest and cry.

The Orc swiftly pulled his hard flesh from his loincloth and she screamed even more, "Not again! No!" as she managed to punch him square in the chin with both her fists.

Taken aback by the blow, he let her fall to the floor as he shook his head.

Tauriel tried to crawl away, blinded by her tears, but his metal boot met her stomach. He did not kick hard enough to hurt, he just flipped her onto her back so she could no longer squirm away. He pressed his heavy foot between her panting breasts, putting just enough weight so she would suffocate.

The lithe Elf struggled for a moment, grunting, screaming, crying but, as she could no longer pull air into her lungs, the fires of her rebellion quickly subsided.

Towering over her frame, dark and menacing as ever, Bolg maliciously spat, "I'm giving you a choice, She-Elf. either you stop fighting and let me mount you, or I throw you outside and let the soldiers take care of you!"

Tauriel's heart sank at his words, she knew he would not hesitate, he would probably even watch as she was raped by all these Orcs. She had no other choice. As his boot lifted from her, she struggled to right herself back up onto her knees.

He gave her cheeks a few slaps with his hard flesh before she reluctantly took him in her mouth. She shivered in disgust, the awful taste of his, she could barely tolerate it, and he smelled even worse. She closed her eyes, the sight of his open chest made her even more queasy, as if she could feel the pain slicing through her own skin. She hated how she could even feel a bit of sympathy in her heart for the revolting creature.

As Bolg pressed her head further down onto him, she gagged and pulled away and instantly he grunted and raised his hand to hit her.

Terrified, she quickly lowered her mouth back onto his erection, this time using both her bound hands as well so he could not choke her. She sucked fervently despite her lack of experience, she just did her best so no more harm would befall her.

The Orc sighed and grabbed her hair firmly, yet not hard enough to hurt, "You learn fast, you're a good little Elf."

Tauriel wished he'd use the Dark Tongue again instead, she did not want him talking to her, she did not want to know what he was saying. She did not want to be praised like a dog for performing such obscenities.

He even gently patted her on the head and laughed.

She threw him the blackest of glances.

As she kept busying herself upon his large shaft, she found that the vile taste had subsided. Perhaps she had grown desensitized to it over time, or she just had managed to clean it off with her mouth. She heaved a bit at the sudden thought and tried to prevent her mind from wandering too much. She'd rather not think of when was the last time this filthy monster actually bathed, if he ever did.

Bolg purred rhythmically under her ministrations, his fist balled in her hair, urging her to take more of him. He was about to reach his peak and he wanted nothing more than to choke her. He pulled her hands away from his member.

Taken aback, Tauriel had no time to react before her head was pushed all the way down onto him. Now firmly pressed nose-to-nose with one of the contorted leather grimaces that made up his garment, she struggled and gagged as Bolg came down her throat in a slobbery snarl. His drool dripping on top of her head as he effectively emptied himself down her neck.

There was nothing she could do, he was coming too far into her mouth, she couldn't even spit it out. She felt it pouring down her esophagus and straight into her stomach. She grew dizzy from the lack of air and from the realization this was actually her first meal in over a day.

Why did he have to come so much?

How could he even do it?

Such an over-abundance of seed. Her vision blurred as her whole body burned with arousal she did her best to deny.

Soon she felt his throbs diminish upon her tongue, and Bolg slowly pulled out of her mouth in a satisfied sigh.

Tauriel wiped her teary eyes as well as the saliva from her lips, still connected to his shaft in long, slimy tendrils. Trembling and coughing, her previously empty belly contracted as it couldn't keep the foul liquid down and she threw everything back up at his feet.

Seeing the sheer amount of semen she had forcefully ingurgitated, she collapsed into the puddle, unable to hold herself up anymore. It was too disgusting for words. She prayed for death to take her, she prayed he would slay her, yet she would receive no such pity.

"Tired yet? You will have to do better than that, She-Elf!" Bolg chuckled as he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the nearby Warg pelt.

Laying on her stomach, she couldn't find her strength, even breathing seemed like a tremendous effort. She felt the large Orc lay upon her, crushing her smaller frame under the immense weight of his large, heated body. His member had regained its full vigour almost instantly as he entered her.

Finding her wet and warm, Bolg smiled, the girl just craved him, "You want this, don't you, She-Elf? Thought a Dwarf would have satisfied you? It's clear your body wants Orc."

Tears fell upon her dirty cheeks, barely able to gasp for air underneath him, she denied every word that came from his vile mouth and cursed at her own self. Why would her body betray her so? Her mind wanted nothing more than to be away from here, to never see another Orc in her entire life. Yet, as he imposed himself upon her, she was ignited by irresistible pleasure and his hard push inside of her were a feverish mix of torment and bliss. The girth of his shaft was much larger than her forearm, how could her body even take such an insertion?

She hated herself.

If he would not take her life, she would. She could not carry on, she could not live like this. An Orc was pleasuring her, an Orc was forcing her into sexual ecstasy without even trying. He was rough and uncaring, yet her body welcomed this monster as it would a lover.

He grabbed her slender neck with both hands, still relentlessly taking her from behind. He did not try to strangle her, just arch her back and press her harder onto his groin. His hips slapping wetly against her rear as she was dripping onto the fur below. He marvelled at the gruesome bitemark he had left on her nape earlier. A dark red welt of teeth against milky white skin. No doubt this, as well as the numerous cuts his armour made into her lower back, would leave the most beautiful scars.

He had marked her.

She was his.

He knew it would only take a few days of mating before she would also acquire his smell. No other Orc would dare touch her for fear of his wrath.

He smiled, slamming into her, aroused by the thought of making her his pet, a personal toy for his pleasure. He cared not if she refused to love him back, as long as she was his, her feelings mattered very little.

With large hands holding her neck and the increase in roughness, ground against the pelt as her whole body was rocked hard by the strong Orc, his heavy balls slapping constantly against her sweet spot. Tauriel could no longer hold back and she came in a long moan.

Bolg made due note of it, whenever he'd be rougher with her, she would climax. He smiled, she was so easy to please, perhaps from her lack of experience with his kind, or perhaps because she truly loved it despite herself, "You are a whore for Orc, are you not, She-Elf? Is this what you like? To be mounted and bred like an animal in heat?"

Before she even had time to tell him to shut up, he pressed two large fingers past her plump lips. She spat and choked before biting hard.

Bolg hissed, yet did not pull back. With his other hand, he forcefully grabbed her jaw, holding until it unclenched.

Tauriel yelped in pain as he did. His long, pointy claws digging into her cheeks, breaking the skin. She accepted his dirty digits onto her tongue, not truly knowing what to make of it, so she did nothing.

The Orc's grunts increased significantly by the minutes and he soon came inside of her.

Again, it was too much, and she felt bloated as she did earlier that day when he first took her. It was disgusting. Yet, having being so roughed up merely a few hours ago, it did spurt out in a squelching noise this time around as he kept ejaculating.

She wondered if all men were like this. Surely this would have been a detail she'd been told. Some of her female friends had experience, they often held rather raunchy conversations. That was the extent of her knowledge. They would certainly have mentioned something so grotesque. They would have told her men spilled so much seed inside of them they'd feel painfully full. There would be no way of knowing now, unless she were to ask Bolg about it, but she'd never dare. The mere thought of it made her blush deeply as he collapsed on top of her in a satisfied whimper.

Still inside, she felt him softening and she closed her eyes.

Tauriel sobbed in silence while semen poured out of her as his large member was finally limp enough to wetly lop out.

The smell of sex permeated the air, mixing with the strange smell of the room, of Bolg's body, his sweat, his pungent musk. She wrinkled her nose. Everything was damp and she just wanted air.

Crushed underneath his heavy body, she felt far too hot now as well. No doubt his blood was boiling in his veins, she couldn't believe the heat that radiated from him.

He slowly trailed his fingers in her messy hair, "Do not worry, She-Elf. Just give me a moment to catch my breath and I will mount you again."

She felt her heart sink even deeper into her chest.


	3. The Long Way Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Bolg and his legions return to Gundabad with Tauriel as prisoner.
> 
> Warning : non-con, oral, suicidal thoughts, public rape

Warmth and comfort. Tauriel kept her eyes shut despite having been awake for a few minutes now. She still felt so tired, so sore. Yet she was laying comfortably on soft fur, held in a tight embrace, snuggled against a muscular chest. A gentle, rumbling growl lulling her back to sleep. Surely she was safe in a camp somewhere, rescued by her kin. She nuzzled herself closer to the heated body, a satisfied sigh escaping her.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, but everything was dark. As her hands, now unbound, gently brushed against the one in front of her, she felt terrible gashes in rough, thick skin. Her senses slowly came back to her, so did the pain, and as the fogs of sleepiness cleared from her head, she suddenly remembered.

Startled, she pushed the still sleeping Bolg in front of her.

Shivering in horror as her memory reeled back. He had taken her for so long the evening before, she had lost track of time before ultimately passing out.

The Orc grunted from being awoken so suddenly. The torch having burnt out, the room was pitch black, Tauriel couldn't see a thing, but he could.

In a sudden panic, she tried to get away. He watched her stumble around on weak, shaky legs, vainly searching for an exit.

She caught her feet on his armour left on the floor and collapsed in a pained wail.

Tired and defeated, she sobbed helplessly before her captor got up to grab her.

Terrified, she screamed and trashed around with renewed vigour as he dragged her back to the pelt. Trembling like a leaf, she expected to be raped again and braced herself for the cruel eventuality, but she heard him walk out of the room.

He soon returned with a new torch to replace the previous one and their surroundings were dimly lit once more, "Scared of the dark, She-Elf?" He chuckled as he walked back to her side.

Recoiling as she noticed he was entirely naked, she marvelled both in awe and disgust at his wretched figure. His powerful arms far too long for his body, his grotesque hands were on the same level as his knees. Like an oversized Goblin, she thought. His abnormal physique, athletic and sinewy, made even more impressive by his tremendous height. Pale, greyish skin blotched by dirt barely concealed the maze of dark veins coursing underneath. Was it not for the gashes in his torso as well as his disproportionate limbs, he could almost be considered desirable for his musculature.

She couldn't take her fearful eyes away as he laid beside her again with a barely audible sigh, obviously intending on going back to sleep. Tauriel just sat there, paralyzed for a moment, trying to regain her composure and chase the intrusive thoughts from her mind. He was an Orc, a monster, repulsive and hideous, nothing about him was alluring.

She soon realized her wounded back had been bandaged and the linen even hid her breasts, which she found comforting. She had a hard time believing Bolg would even bother tending to her injuries.

"Try to sleep some more. We shall be leaving at dusk." He mumbled in a low growl as he felt her skittering nervously by his side.

Tauriel wanted to retort, but he pressed her back down onto the fur with a heavy arm and held her closely as he did before. She struggled and grunted for a moment.

"If you do not calm down, I will calm you down!" Bolg spat menacingly.

The Elf merely gave him one last ineffective push before hushing. She was indeed spent and lacked energy to fight back. He was giving her a chance to not be roughed up further, she'd be wise to take it.

She breathed deep and shifted slightly to be more comfortable, knowing he would not loosen his embrace. He clung to her like a lonely child to a rag doll.

Closing her eyes, she tried to empty her mind of worries and unwanted desires in order to get some rest. There would be time for rebellion later.

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Tauriel awoke again, this time due to the cold as Bolg was no longer pressed against her. She saw him close by, full armour back on, strapping the shinguard upon his leather boots.

Hearing her stir, he turned his head in her direction, "Awake at last, She-Elf? We're leaving soon." He smiled as he approached, grabbing her hair firmly, hoisting her up on her knees, "Now, be a good girl and maybe I'll consider not letting you walk out of this room naked."

She grimaced, how could he dare trying to strike deals with her when she was clearly at his mercy? She wanted to protest, but instantly remembered how he actually let her be the day before when she proved obedient.

She thought she might as well take her chance again.

She was already ruined, pride would not save her.

She sighed as she reached for his member underneath his loincloth, struggling to pull such stiff largeness from its confines. She swallowed hard, mesmerized by the sight of it for a moment, as if she beheld its monstrosity for the first time with renewed horror as the realization this is what she had inside of her the whole evening yesterday finally sank in. All of it, dark grey and bulging, swollen veins snaking upon a grotesque shape pierced with metal. She was taken from her dreadful awe when Bolg cleared his throat, obviously impatient for her to get busy.

The Elf grabbed him with both hands, thankful they were no longer bound, vigorously caressing him at first. Every second she could arouse him further without having to use her mouth were a small victory to her.

Yet, soon enough, he wanted more as he pressed his palm onto her head.

She had the wit to start off easy, simply licking and nudging his piercings with her lips. She lapped at the entire length, stroking him harder as her saliva made him slick.

Bolg grunted in pleasure, he knew she was trying to delay the inevitable, but her suckling and fondling felt good and she was giving herself wholly to the act, so he decided to be benevolent and let her do as she pleased. She procured enough pleasure to satisfy him and he knew he would not last much longer anyway.

She noticed it as well, amazed that she could actually tell he was close the edge. She felt him twitch repeatedly on her tongue, between her small fingers, his growls became lower and more intense. Her heart started to race, he was about to come and at no point did he push his whole member down her throat.

Encouraged, she put even more efforts into her ministrations, determined to get this over with and still be relatively unscathed. She hated how she would become aroused from performing such disgusting acts. Yet she felt as if she had a little bit of power for once, despite her current situation and despite being literally on her knees like a slave to his needs. While comforting, it only excited her further, and she grew angry at herself as she felt wetness trickle down her thighs.

She couldn't help staring, hypnotized by the movement of loose foreskin over a bulbous, round head, so dark and constantly oozing with precome. She found herself unable to stop lapping at it despite its strange saltiness. Whenever a full bead of the clear liquid glistened at the tip, she would suckle on it, nearly kissing, before it would drip down. It made her whole body burn with shameful passion.

However her heart sank as he grabbed her head firmly with both hands. She whimpered as his heavily pierced glans passed her lips, but he did not go further, much to her relief and surprise.

She looked up at him, her tawny eyes meeting his lustful gaze.

"I let you have it your way, now be a good girl and don't make a mess this time around."

Tauriel knew exactly what he was referring to. She grew nervous, but she moved her hands again, bobbing her head as she sucked fervently. She could do it, she breathed deep through her nose. He had shown her some indulgence and, while she had hoped he would not come in her mouth, she gathered her resolve to finish this right. She was determined to keep what very little power he let her have in this moment and be strong until the very end.

Still she knew she was lying to herself.

Focusing hard on the thought that she did not want this, but the mere idea of having to swallow his load made her quiver with lust.

She hated it.

Bolg growled as his member throbbed and instantly her mouth was nearly overflowing with semen. She had a brief moment of panic, so afraid to choke, the taste salty and sour on her tongue, but she swallowed hard in a slight grunt. The first gulp took a tremendous effort to go down and almost got stuck in her throat, and yet her mouth was already filling up again as he came, spurt after spurt, inhumanely abundant.

She kept swallowing, it was thick and hot, incomparable to anything she had ever eaten, in both texture and taste. She closed her eyes, fighting her disgust and denying her arousal, now wasn't the time to feel sick. Her feelings clashed in conflict and she tried her best not to cry. Her body absolutely craved this, but her mind dared not admit such shameful desires.

She drank him until the last drop and desperately gasped for air as he pulled away. She coughed a few times, but luckily did not gag and managed to keep everything down. She exhaled roughly, strangely proud of herself from not faltering before him this time. She showed no weakness despite doing his will, that alone gave her hope for survival.

Bolg lowered himself to kiss her deeply. Taken aback by the sudden approach, she didn't react as he pushed his large tongue inside her mouth, content to taste himself within. Before she could even protest, he broke the kiss and left the room.

The tall Orc came back a moment later with a dusty tunic and handed it over, "Smells like Dwarf!" he said, wincing.

She tried to hide her bemusement that a monster, so foul smelling himself, could even complain about it.

He continued, "This will cover you for now. I'll get you something better in time."

Tauriel put the ragged clothing on, it was too wide, yet too short, but it hid her nudity, which she was thankful for, and it was soft and warm as well.

As soon as she was done dressing herself, Bolg grabbed both her wrists and bound them together again with scraps of rope that were lying upon the floor. She did not fight, there was no point, she just wanted to be out of this place as soon as possible and, bound or not, she couldn't escape even if she tried. She felt the bindings were more a formality than a necessity at this point, unknowingly sharing her captor's opinion on the matter.

He tied her simply because he had to. If he didn't, he would be told to do so anyway. Despite enjoying her company, she was still his prisoner. He motioned her to follow and she trailed shyly behind him as they left their quarters.

Ascending a flight of stairs, they rapidly reached the great hall.

She could hear Azog talking, but his speech soon came to a halt as he noticed Bolg approaching.

They exchanged a few words and the pale Orc took his son in an embrace, pressing their foreheads together, before backing away and gazing longly upon his metal-clad face. His silvery eyes burning with pride, marvelling at his offspring as if he were the most beautiful creature in all of Arda.

As Azog spoke again, obviously praising him, Bolg bowed his head, embarrassed and yet happy as he smiled shyly. He nodded to his father one last time before departing.

Tauriel followed without a word, wondering what they might have talked about, intrigued to see Orcs display affection towards one another. She noted their strange embrace, pressing their head together, surely this had some significance. As they walked along the pathway towards the shattered gates, the creatures surrounding them paid little attention to her. Perhaps because she was clothed this time, or perhaps because they knew she was Bolg's property. She couldn't tell and it mattered very little in this moment. So long as they did not touch her, she was thankful.

As the pair stepped outside, Tauriel shivered in the cold as the sun was setting on the horizon, but took a deep and much welcomed breath of fresh air.

Meanwhile, the Orc barked orders to officers who then went on to repeat them to the grunts. Wargs were running around, visibly eager to leave, but a large one, blacker than the night, approached calmly. Bolg lifted his captive and sat her up on the growling beast's back before climbing on it himself, firmly holding her waist against him.

She instantly winced as she felt his sharp armour on her mutilated back and tried to move away.

Bolg grunted under his breath, he often forgot how dangerous his garment could be, he himself had many scars to tell the tale. He spoke to a nearby soldier who then disappeared into Erebor in a hurry.

Tauriel glanced in awe as legions of Orcs assembled before them, she had not realized they would be leaving with an entire army at their back. It seemed that Azog's armies had established into the mountain as their new home now but, obviously, there wasn't enough room for those under his son's command.

Looking pass their ranks, she saw the ruins of Dale littered with corpses, and beyond she saw pale smoke rising against the darkening skies, no doubt from the smouldering remains of Esgaroth. She wondered what would become of the dragon. Last she remembered, his foul cadaver fell into the lake. The rotting husk of Smaug would contaminate the waters if left there. She wondered if the Orcs even thought of this eventuality.

As the legions were finally ready to move on, the soldier previously dismissed came back with a pelt which Bolg took and placed upon Tauriel's back before pressing her against him once more.

It was still uncomfortable, but she would not get hurt this way. The additional warmth and comfort was much welcomed as well. She grabbed the hems to bundle herself tightly.

The Orc commanded his warriors in a booming voice and kicked his Warg into motion.

Tauriel held firmly onto the beast's coarse fur, worried she might fall over despite her captor's strong arm around her.

They marched northwest towards the Grey Mountains. If she ever had any doubts as to where they were headed, now it was a certainty, they were returning to Gundabad. She had seen the dark fortress once previously, beheld its horror. She could barely suppress the growing fear which would devour her for hours afterwards.

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They rode for a long while, Tauriel couldn't guess the time as the sky was clouded, the light of the moon hidden away. She missed the stars and their brightness the most in this moment. She worried she would never see them again. The night was well spent when they finally stopped by a stream deep into the woods. The dark pines like tall, ominous silhouettes surrounding the area.

As they dismounted, she nearly fell over due to her cramped legs. She was not used to riding a Warg. It rocked far more than a horse and the lack of saddle made it so she had to hold on with her thighs. No wonder Orcs had strong legs, she thought.

Campfires were quickly set up and the soldiers broke into their rations.

Bolg brought his captive to a nearby tree and used some more rope to tie her bindings to a low branch before leaving.

She lost sight of him in the mass despite his great size and she sat down with a sigh.

Fumbling with her bonds as if by force of habit, she found them looser than the ones from the previous day. They came undone between her teeth.

She choked back her surprise, she was free.

She glanced around nervously and weighed the risks. This was not Erebor, she was slightly apart from the crowd. Could she lose the Orcs in the forest? She doubted it, the fiends had such an acute sense of smell, but nobody was paying attention to her right now. Perhaps she could slip away and be far enough before they noticed she was gone. She could barely understand why Bolg left her so carelessly.

This was her only chance.

Holding her breath as she ever so slowly backed away behind the small tree, inching ever further into the woods.

As soon as she felt there was enough distance between herself and the busy army, she ran, keeping as low as possible.

Yet, she hardly covered a dozen metres that a dark creature jumped before her, baring her way.

Bolg's Warg growled, forcing her to step back until she hit against something behind her.

She turned around and saw him, a stern look upon his disfigured face.

He slapped her hard with the back of his hand.

She fell in the grass, her lips bleeding.

"Thought I left you unguarded, She-Elf? I was foolish to trust you were smart enough not to flee." He grabbed her matted hair and dragged her back towards the camp.

She cried as her skin painfully ground against the rough forest floor. Leaving her by the same tree again as he went away, his Warg sat down next to her, watching her every moves with a mean gaze.

She sobbed in defeat and hit the ground with both fists in a desperate rage, spitting blood from her swollen mouth.

Bolg soon came back with a slab of cooked meat and a skin full of water for her, "You're lucky I'm still willing to feed you after this, She-Elf. You better behave yourself or I won't be so merciful next time."

Tauriel blinked a few times, incredulous, but quickly dug in without a word, famished after going two days without a meal. She ate greedily, not caring what animal this came from nor about the pain in her jaw, and drained the skin of its content in parched gulps.

He felt relieved to see her eat. Normally, he wouldn't have fed her after this escape attempt, but he knew she had not had any food ever since he captured her. He had no intention of starving her, she needed her strength and she would be repulsive to behold if she were to lose any more weight. She could definitely use a bit more meat on her bones, he thought.

Tauriel didn't even realize Bolg had sat down to eat beside her. Only when she was done did she lift her eyes to see him licking his bloody fingers with delight.

He sneered, "You're done? Get up!"

Slightly confused, she did as she was told as to not arouse his ire any further.

As soon as she was on her feet, he shoved her against the tree in a grunt and lifted her tunic up, "No!" She screamed, only drawing attention to herself as a few Orcs looked in her direction before laughing at what was obviously about to happen.

Bolg held her struggling arms above her head against the rugged bark. He pushed her legs apart with his knee and pressed himself between them.

She couldn't hold back another scream as he entered her. She was not ready for this and her discomfort was great.

Previously, he had always made sure she was wet and aroused before taking her, but not this time. He showed no compassion as he brutally took her.

She closed her eyes to avoid seeing all the monsters around her, "N-no! Not... not in front of everyone!" She whimpered pitifully between her cries and he chuckled into her pointed ears.

"You think they've never seen an Elf being put in her place before? If you disobey me but once on the travel, I will see that each and every last one of them have a go at you."

Made even more nervous by his menace, the pain of their coupling seemed to increase and she couldn't keep her voice down. Tears flowed freely from her swollen eyes. What very little confidence he had let her regain earlier that night had been shattered to pieces.

Luckily, he did not last as long as he usually did.

He soon spilled himself inside her and she could hear the liquid dribble onto the grass below as it gushed out of her pained womanhood.

Bolg hissed as he pulled away and Tauriel sank to the ground. He momentarily abandoned her again, but quickly came back with irons. He bound her pale wrists in heavy, rough metal and she instantly felt the pain of it as he yanked upon the chain for her to follow him.

She trailed behind through the masses of Orcs who leered at her and laughed. Seeds still dripping between her legs, she felt utterly disgusting.

Stopping by the nearest campfire, Bolg laid down amongst his kin, urging his prisoner to do the same.

As they were outside, he had to keep his armour on, never knowing what dangers might befall them. This meant he could not hold her against him to make sure she wouldn't try to slip away once more, so he attached one of the large chain's loop to his spiked breastplate. That way she would not be able to free herself without him noticing. The metal embedded so deep in his flesh, the slightest touch would reverberate through his whole chest.

He closed his eyes to sleep, but she just kept glancing around nervously, trying to clean herself up a bit with the garment she wore.

Soon the entire army settled down to a peaceful slumber safe for a few Orcs who stood guard. Laying on her back, she looked up at the sky as it was slowly clearing up. Dawn would be upon them shortly, however the shade of the trees would block most of the sun's light, which the fiends hated.

She turned towards Bolg, face to face with his hideousness, yet with his traits relaxed as he was sleeping, he didn't seem as cruel.

Carefully, she attempted to pry the chain away from him to no avail, it was firmly stuck to the crooked armour. The noise alone made him shift and grunt slightly in his rest.

Her tears came back as despair grew out of proportions due to her tiredness and pain. Staring intensely at the two long serrated spikes at the front of his breastplate, she whimpered softly, pressing both her wrists to them.

She could end it.

Her manacles large enough to expose just enough of her veins, all she had to do was slash them upon the sharp edges of black steel and she would drain herself of blood so fast nothing would save her.

She pressed harder, feeling the cold metal sink into her skin. Only a swift motion downward and it would be over.

She grit her teeth, trying to muster the courage to do it.

Why was she hesitating?

If she didn't have the bravery to take her own life, how could she have the bravery to endure what horrors lay ahead? Bolg raping her until he grew bored of it and either let her die out slowly or started torturing her to amuse himself?

She could not escape, even here, outside, in the woods.

Wargs would track her down.

She would not find any of her kin this far north.

Nobody would come and rescue her.

Nobody knew she was here.

They probably presumed she died during the battle.

If she were to enter Gundabad, she knew she would never leave the fortress alive.

This was her only chance, her only hope of salvation, to die quickly before any more harm be done unto her. Departing peacefully by her own hand, amongst the trees, rather than enduring unspeakable torture locked away in a dark, cold place.

Still she could not kill herself.

She cussed, this was not courage, she was weak, she was a coward.

Yet she felt this faint strength within her heart. A feeling that made her reconsider her actions. Like dying embers of an emotion she could not describe. She wanted to believe it was hope, but a part of her knew it wasn't. However it gave her might, a certain reassurance that she could overcome this trial, even if there would be no end to it.

She would not be broken.

Back in Erebor, she thought she was ruined.

She wasn't

She would never be.

She had to nurture this feeling, had to turn this faint light in her soul into a blazing fire. Whatever happened, she knew she could carry on.

Yet, in this moment, she was too tired and humiliated to fight back the tears.

She flinched as she felt strong hands gently take hers, pulling her tender wrists away from the sharp armour.

"Don't do this."

She looked up, meeting Bolg's bicoloured stare filled with a deep concern she would have never expected from his kind.

"Don't die like this. It's pitiful." He sighed, looking at her lovely face for a long moment, wiping tears from her cheeks with his calloused thumb as they came rolling down. Softly caressing the cut his armour made into the left one back on Ravenhill.

He knew, simply by feeling the scab, this would leave an obvious scar when healed.

How beautiful.

He knew his kin thought he was strange to find appeal in Elves. He'd always been attracted to them. He was the chieftain's son, he was strong, he was handsome, he could have anyone he wanted amongst his people, yet he chose her. She was exotic and mysterious, tasted and felt so different. He had been with countless females, none could compare to her.

Tauriel hushed under his touch, confused by his reaction.

"Do you want me to kill you? I will make it quick and painless." He whispered in all sincerity.

Cold sweat instantly covered her body as she grew anxious. He gave her an option, he showed her pity. If she could not find the courage to end her own suffering by herself, he would accept to discard her so. Surely this was a trick. She could not believe any of his words.

She failed to realize how heartfelt and real his proposition was.

He had finally captured one of those elusive little She-Elves, he truly didn't want to give up on her, but he was currently faced with the sad reality. That she would try to escape, he understood, but taking her own life, this was miserable. Perhaps because she envisioned a future far more grim than what he had planned for her, but he refused to see her like this.

He wanted the fight in her, the resistance. He wanted to be defied, feel the fire of her heart. He desired nothing more than to tame her. If she were to succumb to depression and try to take her own life, he'd rather do it himself.

Perhaps he would find another little She-Elf someday, but it's her he wanted.

He gently caressed her hair, prying tangles away between his claws, waiting for her response as she was obviously in deep thoughts. He was almost certain she would beg him for death, yet she shook her head slightly and he couldn't hold back a sigh of relief.

She mistook it for a sigh of disappointment and bit her lips. Surely, she thought, she had lost her mind. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as Bolg shifted onto his back.

"I will not offer again, She-Elf." Indeed, he would not. He knew he'd only grow more and more fond of her with time. He wouldn't be able to do it later.

Tauriel did not reply, just slowly fell asleep as the sun was rising.

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The legions set off again at dusk. Bolg kept his prisoner in chains as a part of him felt she refused a merciful death because she still held onto the hope of slipping them along the way or even being rescued, as unlikely as it was.

He had taken her quickly on the ground before leaving. He needed his daily relief and, most of all, he needed everyone around to understand that she was his and only his. He knew others were tempted. Who wouldn't be? His kin loved nothing more than to sully Elves whenever they could.

He knew she saw it as an act of cruelty, but he was protecting her from a fate much worse. Being taken by only one Orc was certainly less horrendous than being taken by fifty of them who would find great pleasure in hurting her, clawing at her skin, biting and beating her. He didn't want her to be so roughed up. The scars she bore had to come from him or be won in battle.

Tauriel remained as obedient as possible throughout the rest of the uneventful travel. She felt very uncomfortable being mated in front of others, but they barely paid any attention to her if she kept her voice down.

Bolg had proven more gentle due to her compliance and she was somewhat grateful.

It could be much worse, she kept repeating to herself in silence.

One thing she soon noticed is many of the soldiers were actually female, although it was very difficult to tell the difference, but she saw intercourse happen here and there. The Orcs, like mere beasts, having little regards for onlookers during their primal coupling. This alleviated her shame a bit, but she couldn't help blushing deeply whenever their leader would have his way with her.

They travelled along the Ered Mithrin for four nights. Finding shrouded forests or caves to sleep in during the day. The cold biting harder as they progressed.

Soon enough there was snow covering the desolate landscape. However only she seemed to be bothered by the low temperature. Even Bolg, who wore very little, did not even shiver in the frozen wind.

One evening he used a pelt to fashion crude covers for her feet so she would not get frostbites. He hated not being able to hold her as they slept, he wished to keep her warm, all he could do was put an arm over her. Big as it was, it was far from enough to be of much help. He bundled her in furs and she still seemed to suffer from the cold and thus slept very little. Luckily, they would be home soon.

In the middle of the fifth night, they crossed the Anduin to follow the frozen Langwell river.

The soldiers were tired from their travel, so was Bolg, and Tauriel herself was dozing off against him while the Warg threaded through the snow. He held both her hands in his free one, so large, to keep her minute fingers from being injured by the northern climate.

As the pale light of dawn illuminated the mountains dressed in white, the Elf stirred from her faint slumber. She shivered, her gasp freezing in mid-air before her lips.

The Orc lowered himself closer, head now next to hers, his warm breath on her neck warmed her up ever so slightly.

Her blurred vision adjusted slowly as she laid her eyes upon an immense fortress carved within the mountain, its gate illuminated, glowing of hellish fire like a dragon's maw. Dark and threatening, this place of boundless evil was even more terrifying than when she had first seen it.

Tauriel swallowed hard at the ominous sight of Gundabad.


	4. Gundabad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Tauriel discovers her new "home" and Bolg firmly intends on claiming her completely.
> 
> Warning : non-con, forced impregnation, breeding fetish, blood, biting, stabbing

As they passed the gate of Gundabad, Tauriel welcomed the warmth and protection from the icy winds despite her rising anxiety. She truly wondered what fate would befall her inside.

The tired Orcs quickly scattered about with sighs of relief as they discarded both weapons and armours.

The Elf was surprised to see just how many had stayed behind to guard the fortress. Families were reunited, Orclings running into their parents' arms, but many had become orphans as well. It was a difficult sight to behold, seeing the little ones desperately search for their mother and father only to be told the bad news. Tauriel couldn't help feeling pity despite her growing unease.

Bolg dismounted, grabbing her on the way down.

Cold and tired, she was left so sore from days of travel, her legs barely supported her weight and she nearly collapsed.

He bundled her up in the pelt on her shoulders and took her into his arms, lifting her easily as if she weighed nothing.

Had it not been from the discomfort caused by his armour, she would have probably fallen asleep right here in his strong embrace as he carried her away. She simply stared around at the ancient Dwarvish architecture. Chiselled columns in a vast hall of stone. This had once been a place of worship for Durin's folk, but it had been overtaken by the Orcs of Angmar in ages past. Gundabad had always been a contested territory. Dwarves often sought to reclaim it, but always failed in doing so. Now that Erebor had fallen to the hands of the enemy as well, there would probably be no more territorial disputes in the north.

Leaving the main hall, trailing through dark corridors and staircases, they soon reached an isolated room. No doubt those were Bolg's personal quarters. The place was cold and bleak.

The Orc gently placed Tauriel on the floor covered in plush furs.

She curled herself up upon it and sighed in relief as Bolg quickly got a fire going close by. Through heavy-lidded eyes, she could now see her surroundings better in the flickering light. A large hearth in the back, its dusty mantle adorned with various skulls, both from animals and Dwarves. Upon the walls were a wide array of weapons, rusted by the ages, as well as stuffed hunting trophies including the rather impressive head of a bear. Beside the fireplace, there was a narrow staircase leading up into the darkness.

She made an effort to lift herself a bit and have a look around, but there wasn't much else to see. No tables, no chairs, just pelts upon pelts on the ground. Bones were strewn here and there, it looked more like some monster's den than a bedroom. Then again, that's what he was, such place was befitting this creature, she shouldn't be surprised by the lack of commodities. She noticed one of the corners was heavily stained with what seemed to be aged blood that had gushed on the walls and all the way up to the ceiling. She averted her gaze, preferring not to think about what torture might have happened there.

As the warmth of the flames washed over her, she shifted back comfortably onto the furs and closed her eyes. She was too tired to do anything and cared very little if Bolg lusted for her. She was so spent she could probably sleep through it. She didn't even flinch to hear him undress, when his heavy armour fell upon the floor in a loud noise that resonated against the walls. She felt him approach and trail his large, indurated fingers upon her pale arms. She shivered a bit at the gentle touch.

He undid the iron manacles binding her at long last and she let out a moan of relief as she stretched and massaged her pained wrists. Bolg pressed a light kiss to them before laying down next to her, happy to be able to hold his pet into his arms once again.

He remembered how well he had slept back in Erebor when she was close to him. Perhaps it was because he had been so exhausted by the travel, the battle, his own lust who drove him to take her without cease until she became unresponsive and even afterwards. Yet having her cradled against him was extremely comforting. He hated sleeping alone. Nightmares would often disturb his slumber and he'd feel lost upon awakening. Being with someone calmed him down, reassured him. Ever since he had grown too old to be slumbering by his father's side, he'd always made sure to lay with a friend or a female companion close by.

Tauriel was too tired to worry about anything at the moment. She just enjoyed the tremendous warmth of the Orc's body. It was as if he constantly ran a fever, yet she had realized over time this unusual heat was simply his normal temperature. She greatly appreciated it. It had been most pleasant during the travel in the northern climes and now it was enveloping and lulling her to a fitful sleep.

Bolg began fondling her gently, as if simply trying to elicit a reaction from her part. She sighed and wondered if protesting would avail her this time around. She didn't have the strength to fight back and she wanted nothing more than to get some well-deserved rest. She could hardly believe he was not drained from the long journey, "Please, I promise I will take care of you tomorrow without complains. Just let me sleep right now." She mumbled lazily.

She had no idea why she even tried to bargain with him, he'd always get what he wanted. Yet, to her surprise, he stopped instantly and simply hugged her closely.

For a moment, she waited for him to start undressing her, to take her anyway. It never came and she eventually succumbed to her fatigue.

Bolg was also very tired himself, caressing her by force of habit only. He doubted his member would even cooperate at the moment. He smiled as he breathed in her scent deeply, catching a faint difference in her smell that made his whole body quiver.

Still, he did not insist. It was the first time she actually spoke calmly to him. It wasn't protests, pleas, or insults. No, this time she had truly talked and even dared asking for some rest. He could only comply to her demand.

Judging by her smell, he knew that she would surely be ripe to conceive tomorrow. Thus he felt that she ought to get some rest first. She also swore to be obedient. Truly, this was a very good turn of events. He felt as if they had taken a step in the right direction. He began to wonder if he could teach her their language so he wouldn't have to search for his words constantly before speaking.

Pressing his face to her nape, he slowly dozed off as his lips gentled kissed the still healing bite mark he had left there on the first day. He would have to tend to her wounds first thing tomorrow. He had overlooked them on the travel, caring for her would have made him appear weak before his troops. Only with time and patience would this Elf be accepted amongst them. Until then, he had to conceal his feelings. He dearly hoped her cuts were not infected, but she seemed healthy and fine, so his worries were minor.

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Tauriel awoke to Bolg idly caressing her hair. She still felt sore from the long travel straddling a Warg, but was well-rested for the first time since her capture. A feeling she welcomed happily.

She remained still and even rather calm, enjoying the time she could spend laying down in warmth and comfort. The Orc's touch was not entirely unpleasant either, although she wished he would not put his dirty paws on her, or that she could be with someone else in some other place.

She wondered how Kíli would have treated her.

Surely he would have been kind to her, sweet and attentive. Surely he would have caressed her hair like this as well. She wanted to imagine those were his hands tangled in her locks instead, but she couldn't. Not when feeling those large fingers, those monstrous claws. As soft and tender as his caresses were, those were not the hands of a lover. Sadness gained her once more, but she did her best not to weep.

Bolg soon sat up and she finally dared looking around. He must have been awake for a moment since fresh logs were in the fireplace and he was dressed, but still without his armour. His attire left very little to the imagination and she averted her gaze, blushing lightly.

"Take your clothes off." He finally said, impassively.

Tauriel righted herself up and sighed, remembering the promise she made yesterday. Even if she hadn't, she knew it would happen anyway. She couldn't understand why Bolg heed her request for some rest.

Getting rid of her tunic, the garment was so dirty now, it was actually quite a relief to be out of it. She was rather filthy herself now and wished for nothing more than a warm, perfumed bath. Sadly, she knew she would find no such comforts here.

Bolg settled behind her with a low growl.

She remained motionless, waiting for what he would do.

He reached underneath the pelt and pulled a large dagger, more like a short sword but, in his oversized hand, it was nothing but a mere knife.

Her heart dropped and fear instantly gained her.

The Orc placed his free hand upon her shoulder and cut her bandages open with the blade.

She gasped in surprise and relief to be unharmed.

He pulled all the soiled linen strips from her body.

She had not been fully nude before him in nearly a week now and quickly covered her breasts with her arms although she knew he could not see them from where he was.

He put the dagger back where he had found it.

Tauriel could barely believe his confidence. They had spent the whole day sleeping with a weapon close by. Had she awoken and found it, she could have killed him in his sleep. She could've be avenged of all the horrors she had endured because of him, she could've avenge her friends and then take her own life before the Orcs found out their leader had been murdered. Truly, Bolg did not fear her at all or he was totally unconscious of the risks he was taking.

The Elf quivered a bit as she felt his hot, rasp tongue upon her back, licking gently at her cuts. It was slightly painful, the flesh still open and healing.

He was happy to find no signs of infection, she was recovering well. He busied himself upon every scabs, lapping the dried blood remaining. Her smell was greatly distracting today, as expected, and he did his best to ignore it for now. The taste of her skin, of her wounds, everything was absolutely delicious. All of his sense were assaulted by a tremendous desire.

Tauriel shifted uncomfortably, wincing every now and then, "What are you doing, you sadist?" She hissed more in confusion than anger. She did not want him relishing her blood and pain. Bolg huffed as if offended, "I'm cleaning up your wounds. I don't expect gratitude. Just be silent."

"Cleaning? Your mouth is probably the filthiest thing in this foul place. Go and get some water!" She eructed, a bit harsher than she had intended.

The Orc just grumbled as he kept licking at her back. He was rather amused by her sudden rudeness. Much different from the fearful little Elf he had captured days ago. This change of attitude was much welcomed although he could not understand what might be its cause.

Perhaps she was less intimidated by him now. With no other Orcs around them, one on one, she may be finding some courage again at long last. Maybe it was her hormones too, her body surely longing to be bred. Perhaps she felt a certain frustration. After all, he had not mounted her yesterday. He smiled, believing she truly wanted him.

Tauriel sighed, there was no point arguing with him. She hated to think he was slobbering all over her open wounds. Only animals cleaned themselves like this. She was completely oblivious to the fact that her attempts at showing a bit of bravery in front of him only stoked the fires of his lust.

After long minutes, Bolg finally stopped his ministrations, "You will be healed soon, no need for bandages anymore. Just be careful not to scratch them. You can put your clothes back on if you want." He kissed her nape briefly and left the room.

He needed air, most of all, he needed to calm down, needed to breathe in something other than the enticing scent of her body begging to be inseminated.

Tauriel rolled her shoulders uncomfortably, feeling the wetness on her backside. She dressed herself again despite the state of the tunic. She would rather wear it than nothing at all. She missed her trousers the most. She pressed her thighs against her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs as her head rested upon her knees, and sighed. She wished her clothes had not been torn apart and scattered to the winds of Ravenhill. She had left the runestone Kíli had given her in her coat's pocket. She would never find it again, the only memento he gave her.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She felt so alone. She was trapped in here. Surely no one knew she was still alive and what horrible fate had befallen her. No one would come to the rescue, no one had the power to raise an army to cleanse Gundabad of the Orcs' filth. Especially not now that Erebor had also been defiled by their vile presence. News of the battle had probably spread all over Arda by now. No one would dare venturing north anymore, it was nothing but a dominion of evil.

Bolg eventually came back.

She heard him before he entered the room and thus quickly wiped her tears. She didn't want to appear so weak anymore. She had begun to notice her emotions confused and distressed him. In fact, it was when she showed some defiance that he responded with kindness.

As the Orc came in, she stared at him, listless, concealing her sadness.

He had brought food for the both of them and he sat down to eat close by as he handed her some bread and meat.

Tauriel took what was offered without a word. What she wouldn't give for a few fruits and vegetables, for some fresh lettuce, right now. She knew not much greenery grew this far up into the mountains, but there were villages, merchants, on the borders of Mirkwood, just a mere day of travel away. She would do anything for some diversity in her diet. She's had nothing but meat, meat, and more meat since her capture.

As she chewed without enthusiasm, she pondered if it'd be wise to ask for different food. Surely she could bargain her body for some favours, but was she really that desperate? As she swallowed hard, she knew this would eventually make her sick. The fact that Bolg ate it raw and bloody right next to her, lapping and slurping like an animal, did not help at all either. She was not used to eating game on a daily basis. Even fish would be better. She decided to just settle for the bread, not much better as it was quite stale.

Bolg noticed her lack of appetite. It puzzled him, surely she was famished, they had not eaten at all yesterday, "Are you not hungry?" He inquired as he finished his own meal, licking his dirty fingertips. Feasting had momentarily distracted him from his primal desires but, as he was now done, it came back full force and he could only bite his lips.

Tauriel shifted nervously and cleared her throat, "I... am not overly fond of meat."

The Orc grunted slightly, now this sounded absurd, "It's not Elf meat. It's deer." He chuckled, thinking the only reason she didn't like it was because she thought she was eating her own kin. Meat was the best food one could get. Who did not love it? It made absolutely no sense to him.

His words alone were enough to cut Tauriel's appetite entirely.

She sighed, annoyed, "I don't suppose Orcs eat vegetables."

This caused Bolg to burst out laughing and she crossed her arms over her chest, staring at the floor in anger.

"Only when desperate." he finally said, out of breath.

She simply gave up on her hopes of having a decent meal eventually. She wondered if one could even survive eating only meat every day. The prospect of having to consume the same thing for a long period of time was already rather appalling. How could one not get ill from it?

She sighed as Bolg playfully nuzzled her, caressing her cheeks, smothering her in wet kisses, trying to stir her from her gloomy mood. He was abnormally loving today, she found his behaviour rather strange. It was already surprising that he hadn't taken her yet. Surely he was longing for her body, they had not done anything in a while. Tauriel knew this well enough now, he had a tremendous lust and sought release very often. It felt odd that he didn't try to force her as soon as they had woken up, especially after she had promised cooperation.

He breathed deeply into her scent and drooled on her. This would drive him wild, he wasn't sure it was a good idea to mate today.

Tauriel gasped in disgust as she felt his saliva trickle onto her tunic.

He kept rubbing his face against her, snuggling and nudging, his heavy hands soon started caressing her breasts and she let out a small sigh.

Feeling a strange relief to see he was finally showing a more habitual behaviour, but completely ignorant of what was truly going on in his mind. She moaned softly despite herself under his gentle touch. It felt so bizarre to her, he never acted that way before, had always been rough and straightforward. Today, he was purring like a cat, yet sniffing and slobbering like a dog. Caressing her endlessly.

He took her garment off and instantly his mouth was all over her, lapping hungrily, covering her in thick spittle.

Under normal circumstances, Tauriel would have voiced her discontentment to be dirtied like such, but she remembered her promise, and since he was not being too rough despite his great eagerness, she thought it wise not to protest.

Bolg's tongue quickly found its way between her legs and she failed to suppress a lewd gasp.

He licked at her feminine folds for what felt like hours, he seemed to never tire of doing so. The taste of her, the smell of her, how wet she had become, her long moans in his ears. It drove him mad with desire, yet he did his best to contain it. Today was a special day after all.

Exploring her soft insides, his mangled lips kissing her sweet spot repeatedly, his large fingers stretching her.

His tongue was so big, Tauriel felt such intense pleasure as it would penetrate and curl within her.

He didn't cause her any pain despite his long teeth and clawed hands. Just a few nips and scratches on the inside of her thighs, gentle as they were, he never broke the skin or even truly hurt her. He was just softly teasing, his large metal head cradled between her legs.

He found that it just fit so perfectly there, he never wanted to move away as he was hungrily slurping at her intimacy. It was so good. He would make her come over and over again.

He never strained her, however, always left her time to recover from her orgasm as he went back to more gentle, idle licks inside her. When he felt the fires of her pleasure had dimmed, he would move back to her sensitivity, softly at first, but steadily increasing the intensity of his touch as he pushed his fingers inside of her, wiggling them deep as he noticed this was what she seemed to prefer. He would soon feel her wet flesh contract hard around his knuckles as she came in a long wail. He felt proud every time when her delightful juices would drip down his chin.

Having withheld his desire for so long, he was now quivering, taken by the most intense lust he had ever felt.

Tauriel panted heavily, absolutely amazed by what had just happened. Never before had he cared to much for her pleasure. She felt less apprehensive of what was obviously coming next. She had to admit, the experience so far had not been entirely unpleasant, she almost wanted him now.

Bolg flipped the small Elf onto her stomach. The smell of her, now so aroused, soaking wet, made him twitch. He knew he should stop now, leave her, take time to wind down. He should probably go outside in the cold, go hunting, calm his nerves. He was bound to hurt her, he knew it for certain. The smell of an ovulating woman, this was enough to drive any Orc completely crazy with a wild desire to breed. He knew his kin probably smelled her when passing through the corridor leading to his quarters. Anyone would ravage her if they could. He should be avoiding her when fertile.

Yet this was his chance. He knew he would want to impregnate her sooner or later. His father had pestered him over the subject of progeny for the best part of the last century. Bolg definitely wanted an heir as well, although he would be illegitimate, it was better than none at all. He categorically refused to lay with his own kind, having had enough bad experience with She-Orcs. Nevertheless, he felt that having a tiny Orcling of his own would be great. Especially now that the north was secured as their land, the Dwarves would no longer be bothering them. It was the ideal time to raise a little one. Not to mention it would make Azog proud.

Still, he knew he had been very unwise to arouse himself so much. He should have just bent her over right away and had been done with it. Looking at the Elf, still panting on the floor, her femininity dripping eagerly, he knew it was useless. He lacked the restraint needed to hold his lust back and, in his last moment of clarity, he silently apologized to her.

Tauriel knew he would take her, but after such a long time having her body adored with gentle caresses and licks, the brutality with which he entered her took her by surprise.

Now this was the Orc she knew.

At least she had been prepared for it, she was wet and even rather calm despite his roughness. She bit her lips as he slammed into her repeatedly, using all of his weight to pound her as deep and viciously as possible. She felt the tip of his large, meaty shaft hit hard against her cervix with every shove.

"I will whelp you, She-Elf!" Bolg growled lowly into her ear as he raped her.

She leered at him from the corner of her eyes and swallowed hard. Had she heard right? Surely he was not serious. After such a short time with her, he couldn't be imposing her with bearing his child. One thing was certain, she did not want to become pregnant with his filthy progeniture, "What makes you think you will be successful?" She dared ask, incredulous at his self-confidence.

He chuckled darkly, taking a deep breath into her neck, inhaling her scent, "I can smell you're at your peak tonight, you are fertile like never before, and your womb is ripe for my seed." He toyed with her small breasts as he licked at her nape, growling with every thrust of his body inside of hers.

Tauriel tried pushing herself up, grunting in an attempt to get him off of her, but he drove her back down and held her small frame under his palm.

"You are mine! Your body is mine! Your womb is mine! Tonight I shall fill you up completely. You will take it all, and you will give me a son." He spat menacingly as she struggled under his large hand. He was all too serious about it and she screamed in protest.

This couldn't be happening. Pregnant with a mongrel beast. Surely she would die, eaten alive from the insides, torn apart by a monstrous baby. She was terrified. She was too young to become a mother, especially bearing the child of her hated captor.

"No! Stop! Get off of me!" Tauriel cried desperately as she tried to squirm away from underneath his weight, her legs kicking at the floor to the point of hurting.

She kept screaming at the top of her lungs and grunting as her efforts to free herself were vain.

Bolg soon pressed his dirty palm firmly onto her mouth to silence her, but she wouldn't stop yelling and begging against his grip, "You will be grateful that I am inseminating you, She-Elf. What you want doesn't matter. You are mine and I shall do as I please!" His urge to impregnate her had grown disproportionately and he was very vocal about it as if to instill fear within her.

Bolg growled, sweat pearling upon his scarred forehead and raining down onto Tauriel's exposed back. He had this way of talking to her, it never failed to make her aroused. His dark, low voice resounded inside her whole being, the way he commanded her, dominated her.

She hated and loved it. She felt helpless. Despite her disgust and terror, she was aroused.

He was vicious and violent, rutting into her like a mindless animal. Intense and primal, he grunted with each powerful thrusts inside of her poor womanhood. Ravaging her completely, driven mad with the urge to mark her definitely.

This was the last step to make her entirely his, claim her womb to insure his lineage.

She recoiled with each impact of his hips against her body, his determined strokes deeper and deeper. He had the firm intention to shoot every drop of his potent semen as far as possible into her fertile wetness.

A powerful orgasm tore through her whole body as she screamed into his hand. She felt every hot spurts of his come erupting inside of her. She wanted to crawl away, but her muscles were paralyzed with mind-numbing pleasure. The sheer intensity of her climax increased tenfold by the feeling of Bolg throbbing hard inside of her, ejaculating against her cervix in strong spasms.

Perhaps she was imagining things due to what he had said as he took her, but she felt as if she could truly sense his hot seed pour straight into her womb, filling her up completely. It was both arousing and revolting. Her abdomen swelled painfully and she realized it was not her mind playing tricks on her, not at all. Her uterus was truly filled up to the brim with disgusting Orc semen. Tears flowed from her tawny eyes as sobs rocked her sore body.

Bolg took a deep, satisfied breath, laying on top of her for a moment. He licked at the sweat that had formed on her scarred skin, she tasted absolutely delicious.

Still inside, he stretched his upper body a bit, rolling his shoulders in a purr, "I'll give you plenty more to make sure that you become pregnant, my little She-Elf." He laughed as he started moving again, still holding Tauriel's mouth into his palm.

The muffled screams instantly came back and she started thrashing again, which only made the Orc chuckle into her ear, "You will see, our son will be perfect. You will be a great mother."

She tried to pry his hand away from her mouth, digging her nails into his skin, but he did not budge.

He kept taking her deeply, unyielding and holding her firmly, shoving her onto him to meet his thrusts even harder. His massive length hit directly against the back of her core with every move, like a punch straight to her painfully full womb.

She felt as if she was going to die. He was way too rough, his hands holding her awfully tight. The first time he had raped her, during the great battle, he had been pitiless, but it was nothing compared to what she was enduring now. She could feel the extent of his incredible strength, using all of his weight to crush her to the ground as he pounded her. She feared she would be reduced to mush, that he would break all of her bones.

He finally let go of his hold over her face to grip her hips with both hands.

She screamed freely, even though her throat was sore, and tried turning around to hit him, but felt his sharp claws dig into her flesh and she was momentarily paralyzed by pain as blood gushed forth on Bolg's fingers.

He lowered himself onto her, thrusting even harder and deeper, the feeling became unbearable.

Tauriel managed to strike him across the face with the back of her hand despite barely seeing anything through her tears, "Get away from me, you monster! Orc filth!"

She kept hitting until she felt his teeth sink into her.

She yelped, unable to pry her arm away from his mouth.

In her panic, she pulled hard to free herself and his teeth tore through her soft flesh, grievously wounding her.

She felt blood splatter onto her face as he finally unclenched his jaw.

Crying, Tauriel stopped fighting, holding her mangled limb against her chest as she bled freely.

Lips trembling, she was absolutely certain now, she would not be pregnant, she would be dead.

Bolg's lust for her was too great, he was reduced to the state of a frenzied beast with absolutely no self-control. The taste of blood in his mouth only made him crave more and more.

He looked at the little Elf underneath him, weeping, and saw nothing but a helpless, miserable prey.

As he was nearing climax, his only desire was to bite right into her throat, rip her jugular out with his teeth and drink the life out of her.

Pleasure took hold of him and he came hard, filling Tauriel even more, causing a pitiful wail to escape her mouth, "Bolg..." she cried lamentably.

He was suddenly destabilized to hear her calling out his name and sank his teeth deeply into her shoulder rather than her exposed neck. The sudden surge of pain, combined with the feeling that her womb was surely going to burst from being so full of seed, made her faint.

Her eyes rolled back under her lids and she drifted into complete darkness.

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Tauriel awoke to a complete blur of searing pain, her body paralyzed by suffering. She couldn't see anything, only feel a wooden cup being pressed to her lips as warm liquid poured down her throat.

She swallowed despite the bitter taste and her head instantly became heavy.

She fell asleep once more.

Assaulted by a constant nightmare, choking under a heavy weight she could not budge away to free herself. Her body was burning, unable to breathe. Panic and fear was all she could feel. She felt sure it was Bolg trapping her and yet she was eventually pulled away from whatever was crushing her.

She struggled a bit before realizing it was him holding her gently.

She suddenly felt safe, protected, happy in his warm embrace. Her dream was now soft and comforting and she felt completely free. He whispered words of love into her ears and she hugged him tightly. He was not a disgusting monster in her reverie, he was all she ever wanted.

As she regained consciousness again, her pain had greatly diminished, yet she was unable to sit up for her strength seemingly failed her.

She slowly opened her eyes, unable to tell what time it was.

Dying embers were glowing in the fireplace and Bolg was snoring next to her, his heavy limbs wrapped around her body as usual.

She immediately took a look at her arm and found numerous stitches and bandages upon it, as well as on her shoulder, despite the faint light. She laid there for a moment, her anger and hatred simmering within her as she remembered what had happened.

Noticing how she was exempt of the overabundance of bodily fluid the Orc had spilled within her and how her wounds had been tended to, she assumed she had been out for at least a day or perhaps even two.

A bit of energy came back to her as time passed and she managed to carefully slip out of Bolg's grasp without waking him. She stared at him in the dark, sleeping peacefully. A burning scorn surged inside of her. That dream she had only made her all the more outraged.

She fumbled into the furs a bit until she found the dagger hidden there. It had been a while since she last held a weapon.

The blade, of obvious Orcish make, was crude, but sharp.

She clenched its hilt until her knuckles turned white.

Trembling with hatred, she growled as she pierced Bolg straight into the chest.

Feeling a delightful relief and excitement as the knife plunged into his flesh.

She pulled away in an attempt to stab him again.

He instantly awoke with a pained grunt escaping between his clenched teeth.

He forcefully grabbed Tauriel's arm before her next blow fell and slapped her hard across the face with his other hand.

She stumbled backward in a yelp and lost the oversized knife momentarily.

Dazed by the hit, she stumbled on all fours before grabbing hold of the weapon again.

Panicked, she knew she had no chance against him so, as he approached her, barely bleeding from his wound, she lifted the shank up in an attempt to stab herself into the stomach.

She groaned and cried in protest as he stopped her, prying the blade away from her.

"Are you crazy?" He screamed as she started hitting him with both fists, lacking the strength to do any real damage. Her wounded limb throbbing in pain.

She sobbed hysterically and Bolg just didn't know what to do with her anymore so he simply embraced her, firmly holding her against him, preventing her from moving.

She trashed into his arms for a short minute until she finally calmed down, weeping and shaking as he caressed her matted hair.

"Don't kill our son." He finally whispered in her ear before kissing her cheek.

Tauriel swallowed hard, "I... I am not pregnant." Her voice was unsure and trembling.

Surely she wasn't, he only said that to guilt her.

She nuzzled against his chest despite herself, his embrace was the only thing comforting her in this moment of complete despair. Could she even feel bad for killing an unborn abomination?

Bolg gently nuzzled her. He felt the pain in his chest but paid little attention to it for now. He knew she had failed to hit anything vital, otherwise he would have been coughing up blood by now. He was an Orc, he was tough, wounds coagulated almost instantly, he even doubted he'd actually need stitches for this. Jabbed with a mere dagger, this was nothing more than a minor incident. The first time she actually managed to truly hurt him. Just like he had marked her when he first took her, she had marked him back now.

They belonged to each other.

He knew he would remember this moment rather fondly in the future.

"You are indeed carrying our child, She-Elf. I can smell it, you have conceived. I will take very good care of the both of you. Do not worry."

Tauriel's heart sank.

This couldn't be possible, he couldn't know.

Perhaps this was all just a nightmare as well.

She felt exhausted and slowly began to realize just how much their altercation had revived her pain. She closed her eyes as Bolg gently laid her back down onto the furs and held her against his warmth. She let the rumbling of his slow, steady breaths lull her back to sleep.

The last thing she thought before drifting into a peaceful slumber was that she should have aimed for his throat instead.


	5. Never Without You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Tauriel awaits a happy event and Bolg shows his softer side.
> 
> Warning : dub-con, deepthroating, slight fluff

Two months had passed since the night Bolg had forcefully attempted to impregnate her.

Tauriel was now faced with the horrible reality, he had been successful indeed.

The numerous wounds his teeth had made into her flesh healed, leaving gruesome scars behind, a cruel reminder of that fateful evening.

For a whole week after the events, he barely dared touching her and, when he finally mounted her again, he had been more gentle than usual.

She still did not want him, but he proved more caring now that he knew she was bearing his child.

One night, she dared ask for more varied food and he obliged, sending a few of his grunts to pillage some victuals they would normally overlook. He knew pregnant females sometimes had strange cravings, so having a wide array of ingredients at hand would prove beneficial.

Many a night she wished to end his life as well as hers. He no longer left weapons in the room, having learned his lesson. The fact that she had stabbed him was nothing. He often caressed the scar with a smile. It was the dreadful memory of her about to sink the blade into her stomach, kill herself, kill their unborn son. He could not abide the mere thought of it. His progeny was precious.

He wished the Elf would warm up to him. He did his best to show some kindness towards her, yet was constantly met with the cold shoulder, with vehement hisses and spits, and a stern refusal to cooperate. At least she did dare to converse with him now, but she was always unpleasant.

His frustration with her grew so, one evening, he simply went away.

He had left numerous distractions at her disposal, old books, quills, papers, he was amazed at how much useless things they had amassed or had always been within the fortress since his ancestors took it from the Dwarves in ages past.

He put her under the surveillance of his two most trusted bodyguards, brutish berserkers almost as big and terrifying as he was. They'd make sure she would be fed, but would not leave this room, nor ever come within proximity of a weapon.

He assembled a small pack and left Gundabad to raid nearby villages, hoping to find clothes for her, food, presents, anything to make her happy. Above all, he wished to wind down, clear his mind of worries, he felt unloved and it had become tiresome. Surely she was bound to appreciate him eventually. He did not understand her stubbornness. He knew she was not aware of the ways of Orcs, but he couldn't help feeling she had claimed him as her mate when she had stabbed him. It wounded him deeply to still be faced with her scorn after the event.

He calmed his nerves by raping numerous women, killing Men, burning their houses. He had missed the battles, had missed raiding. It was not as thrilling as going to war, but it was a different kind of gratification.

Back in Gundabad, Tauriel was first relieved to have Bolg leaving for a few nights, but she quickly felt lonely. Her crude bed was cold and nobody talked to her. She would have loved to read, but all of the books were in Khuzdul, as expected. She looked at the very few pictures and ornamentation on the old pages and sighed. She would have written, but the inkwell had long dried out, not that this was any surprise either. Bolg had barely checked what he had given her.

She hated to admit it, but she missed him, if only for his presence, his warmth, his attention. It was the first time she was alone since he had captured her two months prior. Perhaps she was rendered overly emotional by her current state, but she wept every day in utter loneliness, barely able to find sleep.

Then, after what seemed like the longest week of her life, he finally came back.

Tauriel almost wanted to greet him warmly as he entered the room, but she kept her distance and remained as cold and collected as possible.

Bolg threw his bagged plunder aside and she saw his right leg was bandaged and he had a slight limp.

As he took his armour off, she also noticed numerous scratches upon his shoulderblades and nape, obviously left by fingernails.

She felt a sudden sorrow as she realized what this meant. How many women had to endure the same ordeal as she did? Surely he had been even more brutal to them. Still, she felt slightly upset he would find pleasure elsewhere, and she instantly cursed at herself for allowing such indignation to gain her. How could she even experience jealousy when he was nothing but a disgusting monster who had ruined her life and her body? If anything, she should be relieved that such fate befell others instead of her during the time he was gone.

Unfortunately, she couldn't shake the confusing feelings from her troubled mind.

Bolg approached, offering a lovely blue dress he had taken during his raids, "I think this is your size." He grumbled as she shyly took the garment from his hands.

She relished in the feel of clean fabric and instantly took off her very ragged, very filthy tunic without even bothering about the Orc looking at her exposed body.

"Don't put it on just yet." he said as he grabbed the discarded clothing, inhaling its scent one last time with a smile, before throwing it upon crackling logs in the fireplace.

He then came to sit by her side and anxiety instantly gained her as she expected to be raped.

However, Bolg simply grabbed her arm, "You're filthy." He said bluntly as he started licking her skin.

She shivered, hating when he did this, which had been a regular occurrence since she'd started living with him. To be washed by an Orc's tongue, she felt even dirtier after he was done. He always made sure to keep her clean, only the means by which he did were absolutely repulsive.

This was also the way he tidied himself. She had always thought he was grimy. He was, yes, but not how she'd first assumed.

She expected him to be dirtied by years and years of going without a bath when, in truth, he did keep clean by licking himself or simply rubbing spit where his mouth could not reach. The only problem was, for all his efforts, he failed to remain spotless. Always on the hunt, he'd get blood all over himself, trail in mud, pine sap, damp caves, and he would sweat a lot.

Yet he had a certain form of hygiene, which relieved her a bit. An actual bath would have been much better and soap a nice addition. More often than not, simply licking the dirt and blood off of him as would an animal was not the most efficient washing, but it was better than what she had initially presupposed of him.

She was no longer very clean herself despite his best efforts.

It always felt strange, how he would lick at her nudity when taking her, lustful and eager to taste her skin yet, when he cleaned her, he was entirely different. Methodical, calm, patient, he licked at her entire body without even showing a single little spark of desire for her. This activity was purely platonic and thus, despite her disgust, she quickly learned not to be too timid during her crude bath.

Once he was finally done, she allowed some time to dry out, rubbing her skin as she felt his thick slobber upon it. She then put on the lovely gown he had offered her.

"You look nice." He purred, mostly to make her feel better. He would rather see her in Orcish garbs. Leather adorned with hunting trophies, claws and fangs, a glorious outfit that would proudly display her gorgeous scars and lovely curves.

He trailed a calloused thumb upon her left cheek as he smiled, "This one is my favourite."

Confused, Tauriel instantly lifted her hand to where he had touched only to feel a long cut on her skin.

Bolg lowered himself a bit to give the blemish a quick lick.

The Elf's eyes grew wider, "I'm disfigured? How..." She could not finish the sentence as a sob tore through her.

The Orc pouted, "I think you hurt yourself on me back wh..."

"A mirror! I want a mirror!" Tauriel cut in, trying to wipe her tears away, but even more came.

The tall Orc got up, somewhat puzzled, and hurried to find something with a reflective surface. He truly doubted they had mirrors here. Perhaps long ago, when they first took it from the Dwarves, but not anymore. His kin were not particularly vain or even concerned with their look.

He bit his lips, he should have thought about bringing one back from the raid. He would try to do so next time.

As he fumbled through the heaps of junk littering the corridors, he soon found a dirty, dusty shoulderplate. He had no idea which race it once belonged to, but with a bit of spit and rubbing, he could see himself in it.

He had not contemplated his own reflection in ages and so he stared. He was so unfamiliar with his own features, it was like rediscovering the extent of his scars and the metal that had been put into his flesh, fused to his skull. He bared his broken fangs before licking them, smiling as he turned around to bring this to his little Elf.

Truly, he thought, he was a sight to behold, feeling an odd sense of pride. He was aware of his handsomeness, he had been told countless times that he was desirable, but he didn't entirely realize it.

He smirked a bit, she was a lucky girl to have him.

As he came back, Tauriel was still in tears, caressing the mark on her face.

He handed the piece of armour to her and she glanced into it with apprehension.

Her face was dirty, her hair matted and tangled and, truly, this cut on her cheek, it was absolutely horrible.

Bolg felt rather distressed, it was the first time he saw her cry again, she had not shed a single tear after the night she had attacked him and tried to take her own life. Over two months since he last witnessed her sadness. He didn't know how morose she had been while he was away.

At least he remembered that holding her against him had always prevailed at calming her down.

She was not an Orc, smacking her around for crying would prove unsuccessful. Thus he hugged her closely as she sobbed for a moment, caressing her tangled hair, prying some knots away so the coils would not bind together. He rolled them idly between his fingers. He knew a comb would be useless now, although he had foolishly brought one back for her, amongst other things. Her beautiful red hair would either have to be cut or she'd have to learn to live with those neglected locks. It did give her a feral look, which he absolutely loved.

Tauriel took a deep breath, slowly regaining her composure, she righted herself out of the Orc's grasp and wiped her watery eyes, "I am so sorry. I don't know why I'm crying. I... I think I just had a moment of weakness. I apologize." She had a little, uncomfortable chuckle, but tears would not stop flowing and she sighed, "It's just this place getting to me. It feels like I haven't been outside for an eternity. I miss seeing the stars."

Bolg's eyes widened and he smiled in confusion, "You can go outside anytime. Haven't you done so while I was away?"

The Elf sniffled and gave him an equally confused look, "I... I can't go outside. You said it yourself, I am not allowed to leave this room!"

Bolg laughed a bit as he got up, extending his arm to her, "Come with me."

Tauriel grabbed the offered hand and he pulled her up to her feet. She followed him as he guided her to the dark stairs beside the fireplace. She had never dared going there. Once she only took a few steps up before turning around. She feared this lead to another level, filled with Orcs, and she surely would not be welcomed there.

Trailing behind Bolg, the stairs were freezing cold, and she suddenly felt an icy draft.

Before even realizing, they were outside.

A balcony carved within the mountain itself. The winds swept powdery snow about and she shivered.

"See? You are out!" Bolg smiled as he looked up to the sky. The stars were bright in the firmament illuminated by the northern lights. A common sight here, the Orc barely paid any attention to it, but Tauriel was mesmerized.

She had seen it once, the aurora, but it had been brief and faint.

This one was otherworldly, the night skies came alive with dancing colours and she was left breathless before such beauty.

Bolg was more impressed to see her eyes filled with life again, to see her smile, he nuzzled her a bit, pressing his snout to her face, but he thought it would be best to give her some time alone, breathe some fresh air without him. It pained him to do so, especially since they had not seen each other for a week, but he knew she needed this.

"Just come back inside when you feel better. Don't get too cold." He cooed in her ear before leaving.

Tauriel nodded slightly, wrapping her arms around herself.

Still Bolg came back merely a minute later to put a heavy pelt on her shoulders, but he immediately left again without a word.

She welcomed the fur's warmth and bundled herself up tightly, sitting on the cold stone to look at the sky.

Nights were long in the north, it was no surprise the Orcs favoured this place. She sighed happily, wishing she had known of this balcony before, had dared venturing up the stairs by herself.

She eyed her surroundings. The mountain was too steep to climb down without proper equipment, the fall would surely kill her.

She bit her lips.

There was a chance at freedom again, all she had to do was to jump off. Nobody would survive this fall, she was about a hundred metres above ground.

Did Bolg not think of this?

However, she remained still, calm even, despite this tempting option, gazing at the the aurora.

She lost track of time, her mind completely empty of thoughts, she just concentrated on the skies until her joints ached from the cold.

The dancing aurora faded away as the heavenly vault paled slowly.

Dawn soon illuminated the surrounding mountains, dimming the stars as the sun bathed everything in a lurid glow. She had not seen the light in so long and her eyes welled with tears, not of sadness this time, but of hope. Seeing its majesty gave her strength.

She felt invigorated and stood up to gaze upon the frozen landscape.

Truly, this place was beautiful.

Tall peaks of black rocks dressed in eternal snows, white and pure.

The air was crisp and pleasant, the wind carried no ill smells, just a clean freshness.

Still she was shivering now. As much as she enjoyed her time outside, she wanted nothing more than to go back to the warmth and comfort of her room.

She smiled bitterly, her room, as if she would ever be at home here.

At least now she was happy to know she could enjoy some fresh air whenever she wanted. She headed back down the stairs and saw Bolg, already lying down.

He turned around as she approached and sighed in obvious relief, "I was beginning to worry." He smiled as he beckoned her closer, "You must be cold, come here, I'll warm you up."

Tauriel grew nervous as she obeyed, she knew what this meant all too well.

However, as she laid close to him, he hugged her, pressing his body against hers, and did nothing that would lead her to believe he wanted to mate.

He just held her, and her tension slowly vanished as her skin heated up again.

She turned around to nuzzle against his strong chest and realized he was already asleep. She felt such a strange comfort, almost happy to be in his arms in this moment. She felt safe. Most of all, she was joyful that he was finally back. She cuddled against him and quickly gave in to slumber as well.

○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○

As they awoke the next evening, the night went on as it usually would, but perhaps the atmosphere was a bit more relaxed this time around.

They ate together and Bolg inquired about how she felt, if she needed anything. He had become very worrisome since he had impregnated her. Even though it was still too early to trouble himself as such, he couldn't help it. He wished he still lived with his father, he could have asked for advice, but he knew Azog would probably not take too kindly to his only remaining child mixing his blood with that of an Elf.

He wondered how he should break the news to him, but surely he must have been expecting it. From the first day in Erebor, when he had told Azog he intended to keep Tauriel as his prize, surely he expected whelps to come out of this union. His father had always been rather apologetic of him. He was his only son and he cared deeply for him, for his happiness.

Bolg knew if he said the Elf made him happy, he would not berate him for making her the mother of his child. He knew, if his future son proved to be a great warrior, he would be accepted amongst his kin and by Azog as well.

As the night passed, Bolg tried teaching Tauriel a few skills in sewing and leatherworking, but it was clear she lacked the aptitude and patience for it.

She insisted she was a warrior, not some worthless woman who was to stay at home fixing breaches, cooking, and cleaning. She even confessed to her reluctance at having children, even before she had met him. She did not want to waste so many years slaving away after little ones.

"I hate you for doing this to me. You could have tortured me, killed me, but this... this is the worst thing you could do. I will not be used to provide you with sons." She hissed, trying to veil her sorrows with anger.

The Orc laughed at this, telling her not to worry, unless they lost this whelp, they would not be making another one any time soon and that Orclings were raised by the clan, not just their parents. She would only have to give milk for a few months, at least before the whelp had his first teeth, afterwards he would only want to bite everything that came close to his tiny mouth.

He did his best to reassure her, but he could tell Tauriel was still deeply resentful. Perhaps he should have waited a few months before whelping her. He pouted, they couldn't turn back now. He just hoped she would still find some love in her heart for their future son.

As dawn closed in, Bolg got up and stretched himself while the Elf still sat beside him, finishing her late night meal.

She had become accustomed to her nocturnal life now, it wasn't any different than living during the day, just the lack of sunlight. There was a pleasant stillness at night, even though the Orcs were all awake, she felt as if nature itself slept peacefully and even the surrounding air felt calm. She had to admit she rather enjoyed it.

Bolg sighed contentedly as he caressed her lips, "You know what I missed the most while I was away?"

Tauriel swallowed hard. He had not taken her at all yesterday, which left her puzzled, surely after a whole week away from her, he would have been eager to mate again despite having raped other women. She would not be able to avoid it tonight. She knew what he wanted, touching her like so, his demand was absolutely limpid. She wondered if she could get away with only taking him in her mouth.

She had very little fight left in her. There was just no point in struggling.

She was here.

She was captive.

He would take her every day.

This was her life now.

It was easier not to fight, to let him do as he pleased.

She found him less agitated when she didn't try to deny his desire, he would hurt her less, be kind even.

She helped him out of his loincloth, leaving him entirely naked, safe for the bandage still on his thigh, and did not waste any time undressing herself as well. She grasped him with both hands, salivating as she saw a generous glob of precome oozing at the tip of his shaft, she eagerly lapped it up and sucked fervently.

He was amused by her apparent enthusiasm to please him, "Seems like you missed me too." He purred as he gently patted her head before firmly grabbing her face with both hands. It had been too long since he last made her choke upon his length. He progressively worked his way deeper and deeper into her mouth as to lessen her gag reflex. Letting her some time to breathe as he pushed into her throat until he felt her pointy little nose press onto his pubis.

He snarled in pleasure as he held her there.

She swallowed hard, moaning and gurgling around his engorged erection.

She was soon desperately out of air. She tapped her hand to his hip in hopes he would understand what she meant or even care about what she needed.

Much to her relief, he did, pulling away as she gasped and coughed.

He chuckled, looking down at her, "That's a good little trick. Just tell me whenever you need to breathe, mmh?"

Tauriel swallowed the abundance of saliva in her mouth and nodded before he filled her gullet again.

Bolg thoroughly enjoyed taking her mouth. In fact, this was his favourite thing to do. He indulged himself tonight, especially now that his lovely little pet would let him know when she needed air and then eagerly take his full length down her throat again as soon as she's had her breathing.

It was a rare pleasure amongst his people for She-Orcs were aggressive and very prone to biting. A risk very few dared taking. Even forcing females of other races to do this proved dangerous.

Only the trust shared between mates could make this practice safe enough.

She never dared biting, surely this meant she belonged to him. Tauriel was definitely the embodiment of everything he had ever wanted in a wife.

If only she would love him back.

Still he knew lust gained her every time he took her, especially this way, she enjoyed being used for his pleasure. He felt her tiny palm tap frantically on his hip again and he pulled away, letting her breathe. His body was quivering with need for release now, "Take a deep breath so I can finish." He panted in a gruff voice and she obeyed, pulling as much air into her lungs as she could before she opened her mouth once more, tongue sticking out in eagerness for him to invade her throat again.

Bolg took her relentlessly, holding her head firmly as he moved back and forth between her lips, pressing her face hard into his loin.

Tauriel caressed his thighs, leaving pleasant scratches into his thick skin. She felt aroused like never before. It was so dirty, feeling this much pleasure to have her mouth raped by a filthy Orc. She was like a lowly harlot, a mere slave to his desires, and the thought of it just filled her with a maddening lust.

Knowing he would come soon, she lowered her hand between her legs as she busied the other one underneath his shaft, massaging his full sack. Pressing her fingers between her dripping folds as she rubbed at her sensitivity, it took very little, aroused as she was, to send her over the edge.

She moaned shamelessly around the thick flesh swelling in her throat and came hard just as Bolg reached his peak as well, emptying his generous load straight into her eager stomach.

Lacking air and unable to stop moaning, Tauriel choked as come spurted back into her mouth and bubbled out of her nose.

The Orc smirked at the sight as he pulled away, white tendrils sticking between her gaping maw and his glans. Kneeling to her level as he licked the mess from her pretty face, bright red from arousal and air deprivation, a smile illuminated his disfigured features.

He noticed her hand between her shaky legs as cyprine dripped to the floor and only then did he realize she had come with him. A pleasurable shiver crept down his spine as he kissed her deeply, lowering her to the floor as he did. His member sprung back to life instantly as a primal need overtook him. The scent of her arousal driving him wild.

As she lay down onto her back, he spread her legs with both hands, caressing her thighs tenderly, "First time this way, no?" He chuckled, "I will have a good look at you."

Tauriel blushed deeply. He was right, he had always taken her from behind before. Now she would have to face him, have him stare at her nudity while ravaging her. She averted her gaze, she did not want to look upon his grotesque visage.

He entered her slowly, she was so wet and warm, so ready and eager for him. His member slid inside with ease and she felt no discomfort whatsoever, just a pleasant fullness.

After so much time spent with him, her body had grown accustomed to his shape and size. She bit her lips, he was abnormally loving, she knew it would feel extremely good to be taken. She did not want to feel this pleasure, it was wrong, yet she couldn't suppress a gasp as he started moving.

He was very gentle and took her slowly as his large hands were all over her body in hot, heavy caresses. He marvelled at her beauty with his only eye as she writhed beneath him and he smiled. He would make sure she enjoyed every second of it, that she would love him back whether she wanted to or not.

He soon lowered himself onto her, pressing their sweaty bodies together as he sucked and licked her breasts, trailing his torn mouth to her neck, her ear, and then her trembling lips. He was still thrusting slowly, but deeply, making sure she felt all the pressure in every push. He kissed her but, as usual, she didn't return it. Still she couldn't help moaning as his tongue caressed hers.

He grabbed her arms and placed them around his thick neck, encouraging her to hold onto him as he increased his pace.

"Ngh yes!" Tauriel grunted as the Orc moved harder inside of her. Instantly realizing she'd said that out loud, she blushed even deeper and covered her mouth with one hand.

Bolg snorted as he took her palm away to place it back upon his nape. He tried to look into her eyes, but she would stubbornly turn around to avoid facing him. He finally grabbed her head with both hands, holding her still, forcing her to look at him.

Even then, her stare fled his, but they kept making eye contact every few seconds.

"You do not want to look at me?" He asked, amused, even though he knew it was entirely natural she would not want to.

She chuckled sourly, "Who would want to look at you? You're the ugliest Orc I have ever seen." She spat back before her voice broke into another moan.

Bolg laughed warm-heartedly, he loved to see her defiant, "But this ugly Orc is making you feel good."

She grimaced and shook her head, trying to free herself from his grasp, but he kissed her once more. She bit him this time, although not hard enough to draw blood, but he pulled away in a grunt.

He pouted at her, "Don't bite me, She-Elf!" feigning a sad face. He released her as he started pressing kisses to her neck instead while his hands simply went back to caressing her pale curves. Her fire just made him increase his movements as he thrust harder and harder.

Tauriel moaned lewdly every time her body was rocked against him. Her breasts bounced and her nipples rubbed against his muscular chest, brushing pleasantly against the gashes in his skin.

It was too much, his mouth, his hands, his whole being against hers. He was not animalistic that night, he was loving, giving himself entirely to her, doing everything in his power to pleasure her.

She came hard and her nails sank into the back of his neck.

He grunted in pleasure as he lifted himself up a bit to get a better view of her while bliss overtook her body. He slowed his pace, giving her time to recover, which he never did when taking her before, also allowing himself to wind down slightly so he could delay his own climax as much as possible. It was very difficult to do so as her wetness clenched tightly around him as if urging him to fill her up with seed.

As she relaxed again, her hands fell to her sides, her palms trailing down his face on the way.

He purred at the unintentional touch. For so long he had wished she would dare caressing him tenderly.

She failed to notice, still dazed from the sheer intensity of her orgasm. It felt even better than what she had expected.

This would drive her mad, it was not supposed to feel good being with such a monster. His love was even more appalling than his roughness. She expected his brutality, a total lack of compassion while mating. Having her body worshipped and adored with such intensity, as if all of his immense strength he usually used to overpower her and get what he wanted was suddenly entirely dedicated to such tenderness and love. Surely this was impossible. It wasn't actually happening but, alas, it was.

As he regained a steadier pace, she was left breathless and instinctively wrapped her hands around his neck again. It no longer mattered and she knew, as long as she held him closely, he could not stare so much at her exposed body. His weight against her also felt particularly good, although she did her best to deny it.

Bolg was happy that she willingly embraced him this time around, still he took one of her hands into his and gave kisses to it. He slowly trailed her slender fingers upon his face, tracing the deformed features, gently stroking where metal met flesh. He pressed his snout to the back of her hand and nuzzled it as would a cat begging to be petted. He breathed heavily and moaned as he kissed her little knuckles. He yearned to be touched, it was obvious.

Tauriel swallowed hard and shyly caressed him on her own accord as he let go of her. She had no idea why she did it, the extent of his disfigurement made her uncomfortable. Still, she fondled him, using both her hands now.

The texture of his skin was not entirely unpleasant, it was even soft in some spots.

He purred deeply under her touch and pressed his face harder into her palms.

She smiled, his behaviour puzzled her, yet she kept trailing her fingers upon him, growing more confident.

When she gently brushed his ears, he moaned deeply and his whole body quivered.

He pressed himself harder against her, kissing her neck with a fiery passion.

His reaction initially startled her, but as she realized just how much he enjoyed it, she kept gently caressing his crooked, pointy ears and he just melted under her touch.

He kissed her repeatedly, joining their lips wetly together and pushing his tongue into her mouth.

She didn't react at first, she'd always been so uncomfortable when he did this. It was not something he should do. A kiss should only be shared between lovers. Yet, as she had dared caressing his face, she grew bolder and decided to tentatively kiss back for the very first time, timid as she was.

He instantly growled in pleasure, trusting hard into her as he ravaged her mouth hungrily.

She locked her lips to his with passion as she came again, moaning and kissing, her body trembled hard against him and he came too, roaring into her mouth. She felt her womanhood being filled up as her body seemingly begged for it, her own orgasm made all the more intense from him reaching his peak at the same time.

They lay together like this for a while.

Tauriel could barely breathe under his weight, yet she felt good.

He was still inside of her, limp and tired.

She caressed his muscular back, trailing gashes with cautious fingers. She nuzzled in the crease of his neck, "Do you love me?" She whispered shyly, blushing at her own temerity.

Bolg chuckled and she instantly felt hurt. She wanted to believe she was offended because he thought it was a stupid question, but she knew she felt sad as she believed his laughter meant no.

"What does it look like, She-Elf? The first time I saw you in Mirkwood, I knew I wanted you. Sadly, I could not claim you. Then I met you again, alone, on Ravenhill, I thought this was finally my chance."

Tauriel felt a certain relief. So he did have feelings for her, surely this counted for something. Still she scoffed, "On Ravenhill, you kicked me against the rocks and you tried to kill me.

"My methods may have been a bit rough, I do apologize, little She-Elf. I would not mate with one that cannot stand against me in a fight, that would be shameful." Bolg smiled nonchalantly.

She frowned at him, "If you truly love me, why do you never call me by my name?"

His smirk instantly disappeared and his eyes widened. He stammered a bit, visibly embarrassed, "I... I don't know your name."

Tauriel pushed him off of her and promptly sat up, "What?!"

"Well you never told me!"

She stared at him in disbelief. She had been with him for nearly two months and a half now and it had never occurred to her that he might not know her name. She always thought he called her She-Elf to spite her, to remind her that she was nothing but a slave. She shook her head with a faint smile, "Tauriel... my name is Tauriel."

Bolg beamed as he raised one of his hands to caress her scarred cheek, "Tauriel. Well, my name is Bolg."

"Yes, I know your name. Bolg.

"I believe it's the first time I hear you say it though." He laughed, entirely oblivious. He couldn't recall that night when he forcefully bred her. He was about to kill her in his crazed bloodlust. Only by calling his name did she make him snap out of it in the last minute, unknowingly saving her own life.

Tauriel still felt the horror of it.

However, the Orc seemed delighted as he gently grabbed her to lay back down by his side.

She remembered Legolas, he was the one who had told her the name of her captor as they tracked him back to Gundabad before the battle for the mountain had even started. Her memories of him seemed distant now. It felt strange to her, how only a couple months had passed and yet it felt like an eternity. It almost seemed to her like this had always been her life. Six hundred years spent in the Elven kingdom of Thranduil undone in a moment. She could barely recall the face of her friends or even the moments they had spent together.

How odd that an Elf prince had courted her, then she fell in love with a Dwarf prince, only to end up in the bed of an Orc prince. She tried to conceal her sudden amusement. She doubted Bolg would appreciate the royal title, but his father was now king under the mountain after all. She wondered what title his kin might use for their leader, certainly some fit for war that would strike fear into the heart of their enemies and command respect from their soldiers.

She sighed contentedly, "Do not call me She-Elf anymore, mmh?

"I'll try. It's become a habit now, just correct me if I slip." Bolg muttered as he kissed her forehead, "And do you love me... Tauriel?" He asked with a smile despite obviously knowing the answer. He would not feel too hurt to hear her say no, he was just curious, perhaps even wanted to make her a bit uncomfortable for his own amusement.

She blushed as she averted her gaze, clearing her throat, "I... can't say that I do. No." She grew very nervous. Previously, she had hoped for him to admit his love and now here she was bluntly confessing that she did not love him back. It was the truth, but she felt guilty to admit it, and she stammered, "B-but you were not as... um... unpleasant... tonight." She shifted uncomfortably in his embrace.

He chuckled, "Better than your previous lovers?" he asked shamelessly, obviously proud of his performance.

Tauriel's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red as she averted her gaze, "I... I never..." she could not find it within herself to admit it, she was embarrassed, not from her lack of experience, but from the fact that her first time had been with him.

Bolg's eyes grew wider as the smug smile vanished from his face, "So... back on Ravenhill. I was your first one?"

The Elf hid her face, pressing it against his chest, and nodded.

He hugged her tenderly, caressing her coiled hair, "I'm sorry. Had I known, I would have been more gentle." He placed another kiss atop her head. He truly meant his words. He had no idea, such a lovely woman, surely she's had many lovers before. He attributed her fear and discomfort to the simple fact that he was an Orc.

She had a very talented mouth for someone so inexperienced, he shivered in pleasure at the memory. Had he been aware no one had ever enjoyed her company, he would have taken more time to arouse her, perhaps even rape her more thoroughly. He could have easily managed to mount her numerous time on Ravenhill.

Despite his initial regrets, he soon felt pride swelling in his chest as he realized what this meant.

She was truly and entirely his.

He found her untouched, she knew only him.

Her body had awakened to the throes of passion for him and no one else.

Tauriel shifted a bit against him as her shame slowly died down. She found it somewhat odd that he would apologize to her, but it wasn't the first time he did. She always thought Orcs never said sorry for anything, yet she could clearly see Bolg sometimes had remorse and even felt shamed by his own actions. It had been very apparent during the week following her impregnation. He didn't mean to hurt her, at least not as grievously.

"I just wish you hadn't bit me." she chuckled awkwardly, trying to make the conversation more comfortable again.

Bolg purred, "I had to mark you. Claim you as mine. You are my mate and this is how everyone knows. That is how Orcs do. You can consider it a marriage proposal of sort. I still want to sink my teeth into you sometimes."

Her stomach sank at his words. She didn't know whether it was the menace of being bitten again or the sudden realization that he actually considered they were a married couple.

He quickly reassured her that he would not bite her anymore, not unless she asked him to, of course.

She instantly winced, why would she ever want him to cause her pain.

He shushed her with kisses and, soon enough, they both fell asleep, spent from their coupling.


	6. You & I Make Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter : Bolg and Tauriel become happy parents.
> 
> Warning : graphic description of childbirth

Months passed, uneventful as can be.

Tauriel enjoyed a bit more freedom as Bolg allowed her to accompany him through Gundabad when he went to dispatch hunting parties or assess new plunder.

He knew it wasn't healthy for her to remain trapped between the same four walls, even though she had access to the balcony to get some fresh air. Walking around, seeing people, this is what she needed. He knew his kin also needed to become accustomed to her presence, understand that she was here to stay and that they should always treat her with respect for she was soon to be the mother of his child.

He was fully aware his choices were questionable, but he did not desire an Orc for mate. His tastes were far more exotic. He found very little enjoyment in mating with his own. Elves on the other hand, they were strange, pure, so different. This is what he sought. Tiny, delicate hands to make him shiver. Light touches from a seemingly fragile creature that concealed some inner strength.

He had grown overly fond of her over time, especially since she was awaiting his whelp. He even tried to teach her a bit of their language.

Her progresses were slow, but steady, which gave him hope that, someday, he would no longer have to use the common tongue.

Her stomach had grown big, even he was surprised by the size of it, truly this was a large child.

He dearly hoped the delivery would not kill her, what a waste it would be.

She could no longer fit in the few dresses he had brought back for her and, despite his best attempts, he could not come across garments fit for pregnant women.

He took matters into his own hands one night, going hunting with a small band of Orcs.

They soon came back with plenty of game.

Bolg tanned the hides and fashioned new clothes for her, setting a bit of leather aside for when his son would be born, he would have enough material to bundle the little thing in clothes to keep him warm.

Tauriel was a bit embarrassed by her new attire, they left very little to the imagination, much like what everybody around here wore. Still, it seemed to please Bolg to see her dressed like such, so she silenced her complaints. At least, she found, she blended better with the crowd now. Dirty as she was, with hair coiled in thick locks, she truly looked like a fair-faced Orc.

Despite her titillating new look, Bolg had stopped taking her as soon as she started to grow larger. Not that he didn't like her appearance, he was just so worried he might accidentally hurt the little one growing inside her belly.

He wanted to be constantly by her side to make sure she was well, thus he no longer went to raid villages with his kin.

He didn't enjoy the company of other women anymore.

He relieved himself of his lust, alone, and it felt miserable.

Still he would endure anything to make sure the future mother was healthy and his progeny unharmed.

He did not trust himself to always be tender during mating.

Tauriel dared not admit it, but even she felt frustrated by their lack of sex now. She never realized just how much she used to enjoy it until they stopped doing it.

Bolg had become very attentive after she had conceived.

Many months of kindness and affection had softened her heart. She enjoyed his company now, he was surprisingly pleasant and even charming at times.

He was at her beck and call, whatever she wanted, he provided.

Thus she had grown fond of him and missed being intimate with him. She took him in her mouth a few times, pleasuring herself while doing so, and yet this only left her all the more riled up over time. She only prayed for this ordeal to be over so everything could go back to normal. Her breasts had also become swollen with milk and Bolg wanted nothing more than to fondle them for hours on end, but this only increased both their irritation.

Truly, awaiting a whelp was not as fun as he had thought it would be. Another thing he wished his father would have told him.

Luckily, time went by rather fast. Both knew this torment would be over anytime now.

Alone together in their room before the large fireplace, Bolg gently pressed his head to her round belly and purred.

"The little bastard will be born soon." He smiled happily, closing his eyes.

Tauriel frowned. "How can you call your future son like such?"

The Orc grumbled as if dumbfounded. "But... he will be a little bastard. You're an Elf! It's not a bad thing, we have many little bastards. If he were half-Man, then yes, it would be disgusting. But half-Elf, it's not so terrible." He trailed his fingers over her skin as the baby was kicking and he chuckled, proud to see his son would be a fighter.

Still Tauriel was confused by his words. "Why would it be bad if he were half-Man?" She inquired cautiously.

Bolg grimaced. "Breeding with she-humans, pah! It's common, but they rarely conceive. Nobody knows why. Works fine with Elves, but not so well with the them. The body rejects the whelp before it can grow or it's born too soon and doesn't survive. Often the mother will die during delivery, or even before, from complications. It's not worth breeding with them. Too weak. Whelps risk being born runty." The Orc answered calmly before smiling again, nuzzling the mother of his child, he continued. "You will bear me a healthy little bastard, he will be ugly and fierce!

"Truly his father's son then." Tauriel sighed.

Bolg stared at her for a moment before laughing. "Fierce, yes, but I am not ugly!"

"You are the ugliest creature ever cursed to walk this earth!" She giggled despite feeling a bit mean. She could hardly believe this poor, misshapen abomination even thought he was beautiful.

Yet Bolg shared her amusement. "To your eyes maybe but, amongst my kin, I am quite handsome. You should consider yourself lucky. Many would like to be in your place. Not only am I good looking, I am also the chieftain's son. My kin thinks I have very low standards to choose an Elf for a mate." He guffawed affectionately as he hugged her, ever so carefully, as if she were the most fragile thing in the world.

Tauriel instantly felt offended. Low standards? Such arrogance. She may have been a simple captain of the guard and he may be considered a prince, but he was still a repulsive, disfigured monster with no manners and a severe lack of politeness.

"What if it's a daughter?" She scoffed haughtily, wondering if the possibility she might not birth a son had even entered Bolg's mind.

This question only elicited more laughter on the Orc's part. "It matters not. She will be ugly and fierce all the same, a real warrior! I will not be disappointed if our little one is a girl. It makes no difference, I will love her just as much and be proud all the same when she makes her first kill."

Tauriel felt an instant relief at his words. She was worried he might have discarded the child for being female. He had always talked of a son so she simply assumed this is what he wanted. It would have only made sense. Even amongst Men, sons were much more desirable than daughters.

"I'm sure it will be a little girl." She chimed with a defiant smile.

Having carried the baby for so many months now, she was eager for its arrival and she felt love for her unborn child. It no longer mattered this ordeal had been forcefully imposed on her. Although she couldn't wait for her pregnancy to be over, she also couldn't wait to be a mother.

Bolg had incessantly reassured her she would not be spending all of her time slaving away behind the baby. Female Orcs hated being pregnant because they were warriors, they couldn't fight while expecting. As soon as the whelp was born and the mother was healed, she would quickly go back to battle and the little one would be taken care of by the clan. This was their way and Tauriel wholeheartedly agreed with it, barely believing that she would one day approve of Orcish customs.

Bolg rolled onto his back and she caressed his toned stomach as she smiled.

He behaved so much like an animal sometimes and thoroughly enjoyed being petted.

She found this rather amusing, endearing even. She had a cat while growing up and he often reminded her of the big, lazy feline, albeit a lot less fluffy.

He purred contentedly as he told her she would only be allowed a very few years to dispense love to their offspring.

For as soon as he would be sturdy enough to hold a training weapon, he would be made into a warrior.

Softness would no longer be allowed.

Their son would have to become a killer, strong and tough, otherwise he would not survive.

She felt sad despite herself at this revelation, although it didn't surprise her. She had been forced to conceive, but this life she was carrying was important to her. This would be her child, she would never be able to hate him. She did not want her infant to be harmed, still she knew he would be an Orc and thus he would be raised as such.

Truly, this was the cruellest thing she had to suffer through and she doubted her courage.

She did her best to clear her mind of worries for now.

After all, the birth of a child was supposed to be a happy event.

○◦○◦○◦○

The next evening, the couple went to meet the resident midwife, a female named Aurzi.

She assured Tauriel that she would be well taken care of for she and her aides had assisted almost every birth in Gundabad for the past three centuries.

Bolg even explained that she was the one who had delivered him.

The Elf was rather surprised at his words. This meant he was a lot younger than she was. Anyone would have assumed the contrary.

Tauriel inquired further, but he ignored his own age and the midwife couldn't recall for she had seen the birth of so many Orclings. They both concluded he was around two hundred years old or so after a brief discussion.

Surely Azog knew and Bolg made due note to ask him next time he saw him.

Age was not something they particularly bothered with.

Merely a week later, her water broke and the contractions became unbearable.

Aurzi arrived quickly after Bolg had sent for her, along with a trio of nurses. They had the Elf drink a concoction that would lessen her pain, but it proved mostly ineffective.

The labour lasted for hours, well after the sun had risen.

Bolg paced in the room, helpless, growling in anger in his inability to alleviate his mate's suffering.

Hitting and kicking the walls.

He only wished he could take this agony away from her. He was strong, if he could have endured this torment in her stead, he would gladly have done so.

There was no sign that the whelp was about to arrive any time soon and Tauriel was exhausted, bleeding profusely.

A decision had to be taken and fast.

"We will have to cut her." Aurzi said calmly.

Bolg instantly shook his head in panic. "No! She is not one of us, she will die if you cut her open!

"She will die either way if we do not and the little one will die too! Save your child!"

Anxious and desperate, he looked at Tauriel, crying in pain.

She was so tired and he saw in her eyes, despite the fact that she could not understand what the midwife had just said, she knew she would die.

Tears rolled down her glistening cheeks as she screamed in pain. Panting after her contraction died out, she whimpered. "Save our baby."

Aurzi instantly went for her knife, but Bolg grabbed his mate and forcefully yanked her up to her feet as she cried out.

Her legs were shaking and barely supporting her weight so he held her against him.

"Don't kill her!" He growled menacingly and Tauriel realized he couldn't accept to let her die.

She begged him to save the whelp, to let her go.

As she felt another contraction coming, she pushed despite her tiredness, and grunted.

Searing pain assaulted every nerves in her body and blood poured onto the floor.

Bolg held her up for a long time, caressing her hair as she bit into his shoulder every time her body was cramped by this intense ache.

With each passing minutes, Aurzi urged him to take the right decision.

Chances that the whelp would arrive grew thin.

Tauriel was livid, having lost so much blood.

She was completely exhausted and would have collapsed if not for the Orc holding her up.

Again pain washed over her and she cried while everyone encouraged her to push.

Just as she was about to give up entirely, she gasped as she felt the child finally descend.

"G-grab him."

Bolg, despite his great distress and surprise, managed to catch the little one as it came out.

Aurzi approached to hold Tauriel in his stead as he lifted the baby, cutting the umbilical cord with his teeth before looking at the newborn.

It was alive and well, it soon started crying as he cleared the mucus from its tiny flat face, and there was a collective sigh of relief.

"I told you it would be a boy!" He beamed happily at his mate as he nuzzled her, but she screamed in pain again.

Something was wrong.

She cried, lips trembling, as her legs nearly failed her.

"There's another one." The midwife gasped.

Tauriel let out a long shriek as Aurzi held her straight so gravity would ease the delivery.

Bolg merely had time to press his son into one of the nurses' arms to catch the second whelp.

"This one is a girl." He smiled and Tauriel returned his happiness, sighing in relief.

"I told you it would be a girl!" She whispered, breathless.

She was told to give one last push to be rid of the placenta before Aurzi laid her back down onto the furs as the others quickly busied themselves at cleaning the great amount of blood and amniotic fluid from the floor.

"It's nothing short of a miracle she and her children are alive." The midwife sighed in her tongue before ordering some ice in a compress as she stitched the Elf back together.

Numb to the pain due to the sudden rush of adrenaline as she gave birth, Tauriel embraced her children as Bolg came to lay next to her, putting them both in her tired arms.

She looked at them, the twins were rather ugly indeed, with a face only a mother would love.

They reminded her of little piglets with their pink skin and blunt snout.

She smiled, they were adorable in their own way. She knew she already liked the two little rascals dearly.

Warmed up in their mother's embrace, Bolg proceeded to clean them thoroughly the only way he knew how before drying them with the very few strips of linen remaining.

Tauriel breathed deeply, this was finally over with and she was infinitely thankful she had managed to deliver the children despite how grim things looked for her. Her dark desire for death had gone long before her pregnancy had come to terms.

There was no reason for her to die.

She was a mother now.

The little ones depended on her.

Soon the babies grew hungry and she nursed them until sated.

The aides had left and, before departing as well, Aurzi assured the couple she would check on the mother and her newborns as often as possible to insure everyone was healthy and that she was recuperating well. She had rarely seen such a difficult delivery and thus dearly hoped all would be fine from now on.

At least the whelps seemed strong. They were both rather big and already fully alert, vigorous even, and eagerly drinking milk.

Finally alone, with the little ones suckling hungrily, Tauriel looked at Bolg, staring at his children with pride-filled eyes.

"How will you name them?" She said gently in a tired voice.

The new father stammered, clearing his throat.

She looked at him with wide eyes. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

"Have you?" He cut back in with an uncomfortable chuckle.

Tauriel pouted, rolling her shoulders in a slight shrug. "No, I simply assumed you already had a few ideas. I do not know any Orcish names, I think it would be wiser if you named them. I doubt your people would appreciate if they had Elven names."

Bolg smiled as he nodded.

She was right.

His mind raced with random names, even thinking about his great and heroic ancestors, yet he found all of those rather boring. He wanted his whelps to stand out, even though he knew they already would from being half-Elf, but he wanted their names to be unique. The kind that would evoke fear and be easily remembered.

His father had always prided himself in standing out, that's how he had acquired his reputation. He wasn't just a common Orc, no. Larger than his kin from Moria and white as snow. When he raided villages, this wasn't a mere attack by a random pack that would be brushed off as an incident. Words would spread quickly that they had been attacked by the Pale Orc and his warriors.

Same for Bolg, although his kin were larger in the north, he still stood out amongst them. The metal in his head made him easily noticeable. People also knew he was the son of Azog, so he had his father's reputation backing him up as well.

His children would prove themselves by their future deeds and he wanted to make sure their names would exemplify their uniqueness.

He smiled. "I remember, back when I was just a wee Orcling myself, father used to tell me tales of ages past. Tales of the Dark Lord Morgoth and his armies. He always said his great-grandfather fought alongside him, but I still do not know if that was the truth or if he just made it up to inspire me. My favourite character in those stories was the lord of Balrogs. Gothmog was his name. That's what I want to name my son. He was the greatest of them all. This is a strong name, it will suit him well."

Tauriel did her best to smile at the cruel and twisted name given to her child. She almost didn't dare asking about the girl, yet she still inquired about it.

Bolg was quick to decide this time around. "I think we should call her Ungol."

The Elf chuckled, taken aback to hear such a word in an Orc's mouth. "That's Sindarin. Do you even know what this means?"

"Something to do with spiders?"

Tauriel nodded to him, amused. Yes, the word meant spider in her tongue.

Bolg explained that Azog had also told him tales of the old gloom-weaver of the First Age. Ungoliant, the spirit of evil, mother of all spiders.

The Elf knew this tale very well for she had often fought her spawn in Mirkwood.

Although Ungoliant had died long ago, her offsprings remained and multiplied, free to roam the land's darkest corners.

Bolg assured her that the Orcs ignored the word was of Elvish origins, they would only think of the spider queen upon hearing it. He thought this was a good decision, Tauriel being an Elf, their daughter should have an appropriate name that would still strike fear in everyone.

She could only approve of this, despite its meaning being dark and menacing, it was definitely better than any brutal, repulsive Orcish name or even the name of an ancient demon. She rested her head upon his warm shoulder in a tired sigh. She was exhausted and so was he.

This had been a very long night for the both of them.

The little ones soon fell asleep with a belly full of milk.

The new parents could finally get some well-deserved rest.


	7. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Tauriel gets to know Bolg a bit better and finally warms up to him.
> 
> Warning : dub-con, oral, anal, lactation fetish, come inflation, teratophilia, raunchy talk, bit of angst at the end

Six months had passed and the twins were growing rapidly.

Tauriel recovered despite the difficult delivery, but she definitely did not want any more children now.

Neither did Bolg, although both failed to mention it, but he had been so scared of losing her, he would not risk whelping her again. He cared for the little ones during her convalescence and even afterwards.

She had very little to do besides nursing them.

Their father handled all the rest and it was obvious he was truly enjoying the time he spent with their babies. Now half a year old already, they sat up by themselves and had begun teething. Still they slept well and allowed their parents to rest properly every day. They were easy children and, sometimes, other females of the clan would care for them to allow the couple to have a few moments to themselves.

Tauriel quickly understood what Bolg had meant when he had told her the Orclings would only want to bite once they finally got fangs growing. It seemed as if they craved blood more than anything now. She had to drain her milk into a small bowl and let the little ones lap it up, but they quickly became interested in real food.

It was Bolg that fed them at first, chewing up meat before offering it to the whelps who greedily ate straight from his mouth. The Elf soon imitated his methods, helping nourish the babies who seemed to grow stronger as days passed. They did bite everything, she had to be careful not to have her lips nipped as well when feeding them.

One night, Bolg told her how he had bitten his father's ear off when he was but a lad. Severing it with his teeth, he even ate it. He smiled at the memory, proud of his action even now, despite also receiving the smacking of his life afterwards.

Play-fighting was a big part of an Orcling's education. They would bite their parents who, in turn, would feign pain to encourage the kid's strength and determination. However, accidents such as this happened sometimes. Still he knew his father had been proud to see his son so fierce and with great jaw strength at such a young age.

He carried on with the tale of how he had made his first kill with his teeth when he was only about fourteen years of age, already nearly as tall as Azog by that time, he had bit a Dwarf warrior's head clean off, chewing through the neck.

Tauriel had remarked that many of his teeth were broken now, but he assured her that an Orc's fangs were constantly replaced over time, they would fall off and new ones would grow. They didn't have to worry about breaking them when biting. All they had to do was maintaining their tusks, for they never stopped growing. They had to be used up, otherwise they would jut outside their mouth too prominently and become bothersome. As such they chewed on bones to prevent them from growing too long. Numerous times she had witnessed Bolg gnawing on various inedible things as would a dog, she had never realized it actually served such an important purpose.

The more time passed, the more she was truly amazed at how absolutely fascinating Orcs were, halfway between beasts and people. Their ways were strange, crude, primitive even, and yet they shared such a strong bond amongst their kin. The whole clan was like a big family of which Bolg was the head of. Respect of their superior was extremely strong amongst Orcs, they were fiercely loyal.

Tauriel quickly realized that her position as the chieftain's wife, even though she was an Elf, and even though she had been taken as a mere prisoner, earned reverence from the entire clan. She even noticed some of the runtier Orcs feared her although she had never given anyone any reasons to be afraid.

This gave her a sort of confidence, knowing that she would not be hurt by the others, that she even was welcome amongst them. Her appearance had changed so much over time, only her face betrayed what she truly was.

Bolg thought she had achieved the pinnacle of beauty now. Covered in scars, scantily clad in leather and fur. She had gained a little bit of weight during her pregnancy and he loved it.

For the first few months following the birth of the twins, he did not touch her at all. He kept her in his warm embrace as they slept, but not once did he try to mate. He knew she needed time to recover.

He went back to raid with his warriors a few time, never leaving for more than a couple days.

He assuaged his lust with other women. It was far from being as pleasurable, but it calmed him down.

Until Tauriel had a rather erotic dream in the middle of the day, wet and quivering despite her unconsciousness. The scent of her arousal had stirred Bolg out of his slumber even before she had woken up herself.

He looked at her squirm and moan softly in her sleep and he tentatively slipped his hand between her legs, gently rubbing, but not entering her.

When she finally opened her eyes, she was already moaning and panting. She needed not say a word, the Orc knew she had missed this just as much as he did.

He loved her passionately, careful not to rough her up as a long time had passed since they last coupled. He knew he would eventually be able to take her like a beast in heat again, but not today.

They shared this short moment of pure bliss before falling asleep again.

Tauriel didn't dare confessing that she had been dreaming about him the moment before. Not only was she ashamed of it, but she was also worried Bolg would realize she had grown fond of him if he now appeared in her slumber.

What he was doing to her in it was downright perverted as well, she blushed deeply as she let her thoughts wander before drifting into a fitful rest.

After that one time, everything went back to how it once was. Bolg would take her every day, the only difference being that she actually enjoyed it now, although she still dared not admit it. However, he knew she did, it was entirely obvious.

And thus, time passed. Tauriel learned more and more Orcish every day, she could now converse with Bolg, albeit making a few mistakes here and there.

He always patiently corrected her. In turn, she tried teaching him a bit of Elvish, but he wasn't as receptive since it served no purpose. He did his best to remember just a few little things, only to make her happy.

It somewhat amused her to hear her tongue spoken in the gruff voice of an Orc.

Aside from the language, he had also taught her how to properly ride a Warg, insisting that a bit of sport was good for her.

She had grown to love the strange beasts. They were intelligent and cunning and their fur was very pleasant in her hands. The animals accepted her just as the Orcs did. She even talked to others and was treated with reverence. She felt a lot better and her mood improved over time.

A few days prior, Bolg had dispatched a messenger towards Erebor in order to tell Azog about the birth of the twins. He didn't want to send news too early, but now that the whelps were growing healthily, there wasn't much to worry about. It was about time they met their grandfather.

The couple spent the evening together on the balcony, having left the little ones in the care of the clan.

Tauriel gazed at the shining skies while Bolg rested in her lap, purring happily. It was always cold in the mountains, the snow never truly melted away. She had grown used to the northern climate, although she would never be able to shake it off as the Orcs did.

Narwain was slowly ending, yet there were still plenty of long winter nights left. A shooting star suddenly appeared and the Elf smiled. Her companion also seemed rather captivated by the event, his eyes darting upward.

"They do that sometimes, they fall down. I don't know why." He murmured as he nuzzled his snout against her.

Tauriel had a soft chuckle. "You're supposed to make a wish when you see one. The star will carry it and make it come true."

"Really? I've seen so many and never wished for anything." The Orc beamed like a child, as if he knew not the meaning of superstition, but he soon became more curious about this strange practice. "Do I have to wish for something different every time? If I wish for the same thing whenever I see a star falling, does it make it stronger?" He eyed his mate in confusion.

She simpered sympathetically. That such a brutal creature would retain a certain innocence was rather endearing. "Yes, I do believe it's more efficient to repeat your wish, it might give it more power."

Bolg smiled with glee at her words, his eyes still gazing at the celestial vault. "Then I wish for you to love me. I will make this same wish until it comes true." He hugged her closely, pressing a kiss to her cheek, before resting his head in her lap again.

The Elf shifted uncomfortably at his words.

Love.

Why was it so important to him?

He had confessed his feelings for her numerous times, had always referred to her as his wife, and yet it would always shock her. She had been led to believe his kind could not display affection, still he constantly proved her wrong.

His wish scared her.

Could she love him?

It was clear there would be no escape for her, not after giving birth to his children.

Could she truly resign herself and give her heart to such a beast?

She knew he would not hurt her, not anymore, but she'd rather not think about being an Orc's mate. She had given up on fighting, on being belligerent towards him, yet she was far from admitting she had grown fond of him.

This could hardly be called love either.

She sighed as dawn approached, gently rubbing Bolg's shoulder as he had fallen asleep on her.

"We should go to bed." She cooed as he grumbled, still drowsy.

He shook his head, his ears flopping slightly, and she laughed at the sight.

She knew she was supposed to be his property but, quite often, she felt as if she were the happy owner of a pet Orc.

As soon as they were back inside the warmth and comfort of their room, Bolg was instantly over her.

She returned his lust eagerly, having learned so much about his body since their passion had been reignited a few months ago. She gladly did so, for he would no longer rough her up, despite being very passionate while mating. He was strong, he was intense, he was animalistic even, but he did not hurt her anymore. Her body was now perfectly accustomed to his size, to his strength. He could even be a bit brutal and it still felt amazing. She felt only pleasure in his arms and he was so easy to please as well.

She knew how to make him melt, reduce him to a puddle of purring Orc that would only give cuddles and kisses. Caressing his ears was a sure way to elicit a strong reaction in him, he loved it, shivering under her touch. He would even moan and pant if she were to kiss or lick it gently. To the point where she sometimes wondered if he did not feel more pleasure there than anywhere else on his body.

Another good way to make him wreathe was to touch his gashes. She was reluctant to do so at first, the colour of his flesh repulsed her as it looked necrosed when, in fact, it was simply because the dark tinge of them twisted her perception.

Over time she realized these wounds were actually quite clean and well healed. They still looked painful and cruel, but after she had dared exploring them further, she no longer found them an eyesore. She could sink her fingers surprisingly deep under his skin, it made her slightly uncomfortable, but seeing how Bolg seemingly enjoyed it, she dared touching him in such an unusual way.

He even encouraged her, also caressing her body tenderly.

She still had a hard time believing how soft his touch could be, she knew how great his strength was, he could easily break her bones simply from clenching her limbs in his fist firmly enough. It was amazing that such a fearsome creature was capable of warmth and kindness. Still, a part of her longed to feel his unabated brutality again. She was too shy to encourage him to be more ruthless while mating.

Of course, the best way to please him and make him happy was to take him in her mouth. He seemed to enjoy this even more than the intercourse itself. He often praised her talented tongue and, while it would deeply shock her in the beginning, she now took the compliment with pride and pleasured him whenever she could.

She used this method to avoid mating at first, but as time went by, she realized she craved him, she would willingly and even eagerly spread her legs. Taking him in her mouth simply became an added treat before long. She had grown to fully enjoy it, loving the praises, and loving the control she had over him.

He used to urge her, push her head onto him, and be impatient. Now that she was doing it on her own accord, he let her do as she pleased.

She could tease him and deny his climax for as long as she wished. He was at her mercy, never forcing her. She rather enjoyed taking her time with him, starting slowly and building his pleasure up to a boiling point. She no longer gagged as she took him all the way down her throat. She knew he absolutely loved it for he squirmed underneath her whenever she did.

She felt proud as she felt the tip of her nose tickled by his coarse dark hair. She would make him agonize with pleasure until her jaw hurt. He came even more abundantly that way, she was impressed by it every time, yet swallowed every drop eagerly. She loved the strong taste of him. Teasing his piercings between her teeth, lapping under his foreskin with her skillful tongue, suckling on his full sack. She did everything she could to please him and felt good doing it.

Now that his little Elf was better and, above all, willing, Bolg thought he should have some fun tonight. He had the firm intent to test her limits, see if she was truly submissive now, if she fully accepted the fact that she belonged to him, body and soul. He had marked her as his mate over a year ago and she had unknowingly marked him back.

She had to behave accordingly.

After he had spilled a copious amount of seed in her eager mouth, he saw how aroused and lustful she was. She seemed ready to do anything he wanted, lost in a daze of pleasure, her wanton body enslaved by desire.

It was obvious now, she had become addicted to him.

She laid on her stomach, waiting for him to mount her like a beast.

Bolg smirked as he started massaging her dewy back.

She had no idea she was in for quite the wild ride tonight.

Still he took his time, his palms working the lustrous skin, trailing her beautiful scars, soothing all of her muscles.

Tauriel felt so perfectly relaxed and content under his touch despite her longing to feel him inside at last. She wanted to be filled by that huge, throbbing erection. She felt its weight and heat resting upon her lower back and she quivered, biting her lips.

The Orc took his sweet time, appreciating the feel of her body under his strong hands.

After a seemingly interminable moment, Bolg moved his palms downward a bit, massaging her buttocks.

She moaned at the pleasant sensation, trembling with arousal. Finally, she thought, he would be inside of her soon.

However, what came next, she truly did not expect.

Warm spit dripped onto her as she felt his engorged length pressed between her cheeks.

No, he would not. She silently told herself in an instant of panic.

But as she felt him firmly pushing against her entrance, she winced.

Yes, he would.

"No... not... like that." she panted as she felt her body give in to allow the large intrusion inside of her bottom.

He merely pressed the head in and he felt her tense. He pulled back and she sighed in relief as the pain instantly subsided. Yet he tried again, slobbering onto her puckered hole between each attempt at entering her, going in a bit further every time.

His endeavour to penetrate her lasted for several minutes.

Her face was burning in shame. Why would he want to do this? Why would he want to mate in such a perverted way? Surely he sought to spite her, yet she realized he took his time not to cause her more pain than necessary.

This made no sense. Who would find such thing arousing?

She lost her breath as he finally pushed entirely inside in a grunt.

Bolg himself was surprised as her body suddenly relaxed and he slipped in effortlessly, his hips meeting her round bottom in a slam.

He was inside.

All the way inside.

She buried her face in the pelt underneath her.

That monstrously huge member she knew so well, it was all the way inside of her rear, dripping in thick Orc saliva.

Worst of all, despite the initial discomfort, it also felt strangely good.

A feeling she could not entirely explain, but as he started moving, ever so slowly, she couldn't help but moan despite the pain.

She could feel every detail of him so intensely, every piercings that went in an out of her, and she shivered. The burning sensation in her rear died out within a few minutes as Bolg picked up a steadier pace when she became completely relaxed again.

He pushed deeper and deeper, rutting inside her. He could barely believe she submitted to this. He smiled, he had expected much more resistance on her part, yet she laid there, moaning, letting herself being taken in such a way. He loved her, every day she became more and more submissive, whined less, moaned more. She willingly took him in her mouth whenever he urged her to, she spread her legs for him without struggle, and now she was letting him sodomize her and she was enjoying it.

Her body was so warm and she was dripping wet, his balls slapping against her dripping folds, sending jolts of pleasure through every nerve with each shove.

He lowered himself onto his elbows and licked the thin layer of sweat forming on her scarred back. He loved those marks, a constant reminder of the first time he took her. The memory always sparked his lust and he quickened his pace, grunting in her pointy ears.

Tauriel moaned longly as she felt the Orc move faster. That familiar feeling of being punched in the stomach from the inside, a feeling she had grown to love while being taken by Bolg, was increased tenfold as he was taking her like this. She felt stretched beyond her limit, it was unbearably tight, and yet her body took it all without breaking. She felt feverish, lost in a daze.

Why did it have to feel so good being with an Orc?

His rasp tongue on her back trailed up to her nape and then to the point of her exposed ear.

She shivered at the touch.

He knew how to make her wreathe, how to arouse her almost instantly, he knew all of her weaknesses just as well as she knew his.

She had become a mere toy in his claws, he lusted and she obliged. She willingly sacrificed her body to his pleasure and he returned the favour.

That's all she had now, stripped from the comforts of yore, all she had was this grotesque creature offering sexual bliss.

Why should she refuse?

The more she behaved, the more she was rewarded.

She was entirely his.

The mere idea of being bred by a filthy, disgusting Orc never failed to arouse her. To make her crave him. She had lost her mind to this pleasure, this desire. Even though she was entirely willing now, she still clung to the idea that he was raping her, that he forced her, and she adored every seconds of it.

She rocked her hips, meeting his deep thrusts as hard and passionately as she could.

He put his arms on her shoulders and pressed her forcefully into his groin.

She threw her head back and moaned lewdly. There was no point in holding back, she was his property, she was enjoying being taken in such a repulsive way. Being sodomized mercilessly by this huge Orc. He was inside her gut, so deep, so hard.

He slipped one of his hairy arms around her slender neck and lifted her up against him.

Her back pressed against his ruined chest, the change of position increased the friction inside of her tight rear almost unbearably and the angle of his shaft made the penetration feel even more brutal. She could only gasp his name in approval as he ravaged her, slamming into her bottom as hard as he could. She heard him chuckle and she opened her eyes, struggling to speak without moaning after every syllable.

"What's so funny?" She inquired, trembling, as the Orc's pace didn't falter one bit.

He didn't respond, merely smiled at her before licking her ear and gently tapping her belly with his free hand.

She looked down and saw what caused his amusement. With every push, she saw her slender stomach bulging. Again and again, her tiny tummy rose with the Orc's large shaft being pressed inside of her. She smiled oddly at the sight, no wonder it felt like she was being punched in the belly, this is truly what was happening. His member, like a battering ram, threatening to ruin her forever.

Bolg pressed his fingers into her dripping womanhood and instantly she felt way too full. He laughed again. "I can feel myself inside of you." Whispering raucously into her ear while moving his thick digits.

This was too much, the mere idea of it, she came without warning, screaming his name as both her full orifices clamped hard around him.

"Yes, scream my name. Scream it loud so everybody can hear how much you're enjoying it!" He growled as he yanked at her hair while she wreathed in passion. She couldn't care less if all of Arda was listening. Despite him being what he was, despite the depraved way he was currently taking her.

She simply loved it.

He gave her a moment to recover before resuming his deep thrusts while fingering her wetness.

She rested the back of her head on his shoulder in a whine, throwing her arms back to hold his neck. She looked at him from the corner of heavy-lidded eyes. She felt so good in his embrace. Caressing his scarred cranium, what little hair he had left, trailing her nails where iron met flesh.

He soon reached his peak as well and Tauriel felt his hot semen pouring into her intestines, filling them completely.

Still inside, he pushed her down on all fours.

He wanted more.

He grabbed both her arms with one hand and held them together behind her back, slamming her body onto his, meeting his powerful thrusts.

She moaned shamelessly every time her whole being recoiled under his great strength.

He dominated her entirely and she adored it.

Held like this, she remembered the first time he had taken her, tied in a similar fashion. She could barely recall the pain or sadness of that moment, it now only seemed like it hurt so good, just as it was now. His relentless shoves inside of her, so hard, so large, her rear stretched around him and violated so thoroughly, so deeply. It was as painful as it was good. She voiced her approval, urging him to take her harder, and he happily obliged, growling menacingly above her.

"You love this, She-Elf? You love having your worthless body raped by this ugly Orc?"

Tauriel moaned, nearly brought over the edge by his words. He had not called her She-Elf in a long time. He talked to her and treated her the exact way she felt in this moment, like a mere whore.

Bolg gave her buttocks a sharp spank, ordering her to answer as he snarled.

"Yes... yes I love it!" She could only gasp, rocked so hard against him she was breathless. He was so rough, so relentless. It had been too long since he had been so brutal to her. She couldn't even believe she once hated his savagery. She never wanted it to end, this pleasure, it was mind-numbing. She lost control, unable to move anymore, all she could do was moan and drool on the pelt underneath as Bolg ravaged her completely. Her eyes rolled back in their sockets as she came harder than before, feeling her stomach swell as the Orc finished with her.

Overflowing with semen, she just loved how abundant he was. There was nothing as satisfying as her core filling up with his hot seed. His body temperature being way higher than hers, she truly felt warmed up from the inside whenever he would come.

Uncomfortably full, she winced, torn between pleasure and pain.

Bolg flipped her over onto her back and stared at her for a moment, catching his breath. "I want more, She-Elf." He grunted with a smirk.

Tauriel swallowed hard. She suddenly remembered she had once heard that Orcs particularly loved this form of coupling. Although she could not recall who had told her and why, and she couldn't concentrate as Bolg resumed his pace. Her bottom felt numb, her stomach was aching.

He lowered himself onto her, the weight of his body on her swollen belly was almost unbearable. He trailed his tongue upon her skin and goosebumps instantly covered its expanse. His large hands massaged her round breasts, full as they were, milk poured out of her flushed nipples and he eagerly lapped it up. He knew she would soon stop lactating now that the whelps were requesting less nourishment from her. He'd better enjoy this special treat while it lasted.

Tauriel blushed as he squeezed the white liquid out of her and into his mouth. She was almost amused at her own shame. Here she was spreading her legs wide to be sodomized and enjoying it, yet it was his lust for breast milk that made her cheeks redden.

She caressed his head as he kept slurping at her engorged chest. Her rear had been so roughed up now from his relentless shoves, she felt entirely loosened up and sperm was spurting out with every thrust.

His mouth hungrily sought hers as he grunted, pushing harder and harder into her. He came again as he kissed her, filling her up some more.

Tauriel couldn't fathom how his body could produce so much semen over and over again. Every time, he ejaculated for a full minute, sometimes more, taken by an intense orgasm, drooling abundantly all over her. His hardness pulsated so much within, it never failed to make her come as well and this time was no exception. The sensation was particularly good this way and she felt her full stomach threatening to burst as her body contracted in pleasure.

Now completely exhausted, Bolg crushed her to the ground under his weight as he collapsed on top of her weak frame.

The immense amount of seed forcefully poured out of her and the overwhelming feeling was just too much now.

She fainted with a light smile upon her trembling lips.

○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○

Tauriel awoke a few hours past sunset, stirred out of slumber by little cries. Through her slowly clearing vision, she saw Bolg holding their son in his arms, shushing him gently.

"See? You won't even let your mother sleep in. You're such a little devil." He cooed to the baby as he noticed his mate was now awake.

"Is he hungry?" Tauriel inquired, rubbing her eyes before stretching herself, her back cracking pleasantly.

Bolg shook his head with a pout. "No, his teeth are growing, he's in a bit of pain. I hope he doesn't wake Ungol up as well."

She sighed as she dressed herself. She always felt sad and helpless whenever her children would cry and she was powerless to stop it. She was glad Bolg was there to handle it, he was less moved by their cries.

"The little bastard is strong." He smiled as the Orcling was chewing on his finger. Although his teeth were sharp enough to pierce Tauriel's skin, he lacked the jaw strength to bite through his father's thick hide. "He will be a great warrior someday. See his eyes? He is special."

Indeed, Gothmog had been born with bicoloured eyes, one brown, the other blue, as if he had inherited one from each parent. Surely this was a sign.

Tauriel no longer bothered that Bolg called his children mongrels, she had soon realized it was said in an affectionate manner. Still she chuckled. "What about you? Are you a little bastard too?" She purred at him as she hugged his back, careful not to prick herself on his metal spine.

Bolg huffed at her words, flexing his chest proudly. "Of course not! My father is a direct descendant of the first Orcs of Angband, so was my mother. If I were a mongrel, I would never be this big." He smiled as he nuzzled his son.

The Orcling was slowly falling asleep in his arms.

They were both relieved his fussing did not wake his sister. The twins rarely cried in unison but, when it happened, it was a nightmare.

As Bolg laid his son back to rest beside his sibling, Tauriel sat down onto the pelts.

"What happened to your mother? Is she around anymore?" She asked shyly. She didn't recall her parents, they had died when she was very young, she wondered if Bolg had also lost one of them and if he could remember her.

He came to sit next to her with a barely audible sigh. "No, she died in battle long ago." He calmly replied as he took the small Elf into his arms. He continued. "I also had two little sisters and my mother was awaiting another whelp. For years we had been at war with the Dwarves of Erebor, territorial disputes, and they constantly tried to reclaim Gundabad, to restore it as the sacred place it once was."

Bolg chuckled, sacred place, as if there was anything sacred about the mountain where the first hairy little rats came to be. It was important to his people, his forefather was buried deep within the fortress. He could never let it in the hands of the enemy. "You know, my father, they started calling him the Defiler simply for living here. They said his foul presence was defiling this holy ground. The title spread quickly, most people don't even know why he is called that anymore. I know he hates it, although he is proud of the fear it instills within the heart of the people, especially the Dwarves. It is not a title he bears proudly for it was not earned due to his prowess in battle."

Tauriel shifted in his embrace, Bolg looked pensive for a moment and she caressed the bolts in his metal skull as she inquired some more about the whereabouts of his mother and sisters.

His face was quickly veiled with indescribable sorrow. "It's... a sad story." He pouted while she gently trailed her fingers along his cheek.

He remained silent for a few minutes and she was certain he would not tell her more about his family.

Although she was curious to hear this tale, it was obvious the Orc was still deeply moved and hurt by whatever fate had fallen upon them.

Yet, after a moment, Bolg took a deep breath, his voice filled with sadness. "A few years after the dragon drove the Dwarves out of Erebor, they led a terrible campaign to cleanse the Misty Mountains of our presence. It seemed our only hope was to find another place to live. Our numbers were dwindling. Father thought it would be best to move the clan elsewhere. We were barely a few hundreds by then, driven to extinction by the Dwarf-scums. We travelled for days, I barely remember any of this, but the tale was told to me numerous times. Along the way we were ambushed by a Dwarven battalion lead by the king himself. It was a massacre. My mother fell and my father was pierced by many arrows, he ordered me to take my sisters and flee. I had never been so scared, I was sure he had died as well when I saw him collapse. This certitude that we were now orphans. I took the baby in one arm and held my other sister's hand. I had to protect them, I was their big brother, I thought our father was dead. I had to be strong. I ran as fast as I could into the forest. The last thing I remember was this sharp pain tearing through me as my sisters were forcefully yanked from my hands. Then nothing. When I awoke again, there was only suffering. Father was carrying me, barely able to walk himself. Only a few of us had survived and some more died of their wounds along the way. Azog eventually collapsed on the road and we were luckily found by a passing pack from Moria. They saved us and father would eventually become their leader."

Bolg lifted himself up a bit, trailing his claw over a scar underneath his ribcage, one amongst a myriad of others. He explained he had been pierced by a spear and fell, yet still lived by some miracle.

Tauriel saw tears in his eyes as he reminisced how his siblings had been taken from him, how his kin had been slaughtered without mercy.

"I was too young, I couldn't protect them." He buried his face in the crook of her neck and she gently caressed him as to ease his sadness.

It was a long moment before the Orc managed to regain his composure. He sniffled as he smiled and wiped his eyes. "I've never told anyone before." He chuckled, trying to convince himself his mother and sisters would not want him to be sad. He didn't want to appear weak.

He told her that, from that day forward, he had trained relentlessly to become a fierce warrior, to be the strongest. Many times he had paid dearly for his own temerity in battle, yet death always failed to claim him. "Father and I both swore to wipe out the line of their king, slaughter his offspring as he slaughtered our family, our kin. Get our revenge for their constant efforts to drive us out of our rightful home. Soon, they tried to reclaim Moria as well. We fought back and father decapitated the Dwarf king, but he was wounded in battle by the grandson and we were forced to retreat."

He winced at the memory. They were all dead now, these scums, it no longer mattered. "The few of us that had survived the onslaught managed to hide deep within the mines. We're still unsure as to why the Dwarves did not pursue, but we were lucky. Father was unwell afterwards, he no longer wished to fight, he had given up, so I left. I took it upon myself to rally many clans and we marched on Gundabad. This was my revenge. The Orcs of Angmar joined us as well and we slaughtered the Dwarf-scums that inhabited the fortress. We achieved a costly victory and I remained the leader of the legions there. This is where I was born, you know. I would die before I see it taken by the filthy maggots again. I regret abandoning my father when he needed me, but I was young and stubborn. We had numerous shortcomings in the past, but we get along better now."

Justice had been served, Bolg thought, as they now owned Erebor as well after eradicating the line of Durin. A fitful retribution for all the horrors they had endured.

Tauriel truly felt a lot of pity as she heard this tale. She saw him and his kin under a different light. They were simply trying to claim their rightful place in a world that reviled them. No one had second thoughts when killing Orcs. They were like mere beasts, having no emotions. No one worried if they had children, families, friends, a place they called home. Killing an Orc was doing the world a favour, nobody thought it may leave little ones orphaned or hurt those close to them.

Bolg felt better, having poured his heart to her. He was surprised she had listened to him and even seemed moved by his tale. She understood him. Truly, he thought, she was now his mate. He rejoiced to have finally won her at long last. This almost felt as good as his victory at Gundabad he had just told her about.

"Come hunt with me tomorrow." He purred as he nuzzled his snout in the crook of her neck.

Tauriel chuckled before realizing he was entirely serious. Really? He would let her out the front gate? Let her go into the woods with him? Surely he had lost his mind. Still she nodded, having no idea how important it was to him to bring her along.

Hunting and killing together, this is what mates do, it brings them together.

He beamed to see her accept his proposal.


	8. Carnal Addiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter : Bolg and Tauriel go hunting together.
> 
> Warning : Stockholm syndrome, raunchy talk, creampie eating, teratophilia, bit of gore, short retelling of torture

The couple rose before sunset that day.

It was hard to tell time since the room had no windows but, as Tauriel went to give the twins to females of the clan to be taken care of while they would be away, she saw most Orcs were still asleep and the diminishing light of dusk illuminated the great gate.

For so long, she had been looking at the exit, right there, taunting her.

Ever since Bolg allowed her outside of their quarters, it seemed freedom was so close, yet so far.

She would be outside today, truly outside, for the first time since they had arrived here, over a year ago.

It was a bit too early to leave, she thought, so she rejoined Bolg in their room.

Now fully dressed in his cruel armour, he was rather impressive, attractive even, in a dark and menacing kind of way.

Tauriel smiled. "The sun is still up, you know." She gently murmured as she trailed her fingers on his chest between the serrated plates.

Bolg shrugged, perhaps they had woken up a bit early indeed. They didn't need that much preparation to go hunting, he was already good to go, it was just a matter of putting furs on Tauriel so she wouldn't freeze, grabbing weapons, and getting the Wargs. However, he certainly did not want to go out in the sun.

Seeing how they had time to kill, the Elf mewled softly, crawling on all fours before Bolg.

He was a bit confused by her behaviour and smiled.

What was she doing?

However, as she buried her face underneath his loincloth, he knew very well what she was doing.

This was entirely new, not having to ask for anything.

She was taking the initiative.

The Orc growled in pleasure as he felt her warm tongue upon his length.

It wasn't long before she had swallowed the whole thing down her throat, sucking eagerly as she bobbed her head. She looked up at him, eyes filled with burning passion and lust, as she busied herself upon his throbbing flesh.

He had trained his little pet well.

She was obedient and extremely talented.

Bolg smiled, no, she was no longer his pet.

She was his mate.

Her willingness only further cemented the fact.

Her mouth did not persist upon his shaft. She wanted more and she wanted it now. This aching desire to be filled by him. Cyprine already dripping down her trembling thighs. As much as she had enjoyed yesterday's events, her rear still sore from being roughed up for hours, her womanhood longed to be filled. She pulled onto his arms so he would sit down and, as soon as he was on the ground, she straddled him.

Wasting no time to impale herself upon his hardness, coated slick with saliva, she lowered herself until she felt the bulbous head pressing firmly at the entrance of her womb. She let out a long, libidinous moan, gyrating her hips.

Bolg could hardly believe this was happening as she grunted and energetically rode him.

She definitely was the beast in heat tonight, not him. She panted as she rocked against him, grinding with all her strength. She wanted to embrace him, but the metal in his flesh prevented her from approaching.

"Careful, She-Elf, you'll hurt yourself." Bolg chuckled as she tried to wrap her arms around his neck.

It was obvious simply riding him did not offer the brutality she was so desperately seeking.

The Orc noticed and ordered her to stand up.

Tauriel obeyed despite not wanting to feel empty again, not even for a few seconds.

Bolg got up as well. Turning her around, he shoved her against the nearby wall and took her from behind like an animal.

She grunted in pleasure as her nails gritted into the hard stone. Her warm channel felt even tighter in this position.

He grabbed her round hips and slammed into her, feeling the tip of his shaft hit her cervix over and over again. Her pulsating flesh squeezed him as her juices dripped to the floor. He pushed into her with all his might, no longer worried about hurting her. Using one hand, larger than her lovely face, he kept her head forcefully pressed against the wall as he bred her mercilessly.

Tauriel voiced her approval despite her smushed cheeks against the cold bricks.

So hard, without pity. He rammed into her so forcefully she couldn't breathe. He was so strong, so ruthless, she knew he could kill her in the blink of an eye and this only aroused her further.

"Ngh, yes. Rape me!" She struggled to speak, screaming as he pounded her so powerfully it was almost painful.

Bolg chuckled. "It's not rape if you want it, She-Elf." He was amused at the sight of her, grunting as he put all of his strength and efforts into ravaging her lithe body.

"I... just... don't stop!" She gasped, her voice failing her as her mind was blanking now. The pleasure was way too intense. She came hard in a grunt, slobbering and panting, eager to be filled up with seed.

As soon as Bolg felt her wetness contract hard around him, he reached climax as well, already so aroused by her words, her willingness, her desire. This was the kind of mating her enjoyed, feral, intense, a show of his great strength and endurance and a true test of his partner's own resilience.

Tauriel was definitely fit to be his mate now, his savagery only left her wanting more.

Bolg slowly pulled out, relishing in his pleasure, enjoying how tightly the spasms of her body were still squeezing him. As soon as the large head wetly popped out, semen gushed forth from her gaping sex.

Tauriel pressed her fingers between her soiled folds, moaning shamelessly, her legs barely supporting her anymore.

The Orc smiled at the sight, his lovely wife pleasuring herself even after he was done with her. He knelt behind her, replacing her hand with his large, hot tongue.

She gasped as she felt it press deep inside her ravaged womanhood, its continuous lapping and slurping both soothing and pleasuring at the same time.

Bolg enjoyed the taste of their bodily fluids mixed together, he licked eagerly at her sweet spot and it took very little to send her over the edge once more.

Tauriel was still moaning, trying to catch her breath, as Bolg got back up and hugged her carefully.

He pressed a deep, long kiss to her mouth and she gently sucked the sperm off of his tongue.

"I hope you have some strength left in you for the hunt." He cooed amorously in her ear and she giggled.

"How about you?" She whispered back at him, nuzzling her face to the exposed part of his chest, listening to his thumping heartbeat.

Bolg rolled his shoulders, flexing his strong pectorals. The Elf felt the large muscles harden under taut skin. "I feel vivified actually." He growled happily. "Shall we go, then?" and kissed her tangled locks as she nodded with a smile.

They left soon after dusk, the mountains still bathed in the eerie red light of the disappearing sun.

Before passing the great gate, Bolg gave her a black bow, trying to conceal a certain timidity, acting like he had randomly found it amongst their stash of weapons.

Tauriel knew otherwise, it was smaller and lighter than anything an Orc would ever use. This had been made specially for her, it was painfully obvious. Still she said nothing, but she now realized Bolg had planned to go hunting with her long ago, it was impossible this weapon had been made in one day.

He also offered her a belt with a dagger attached to it.

"Just in case." He said calmly.

She smiled as she buckled it around her waist. She was clothed in warm furs and could barely feel the cold wind blowing as they approached the exit.

They went to get Wargs from the kennels close by.

Tauriel had been taught to mount one soon after she had recuperated from giving birth. She never knew why Bolg even cared to instruct her, but she had appreciated the activity, bonding with the beasts had proved beneficial to her mood. It wasn't much more difficult than riding a horse, she just had to grip with her thighs and hold onto the animal's coarse fur with her hands.

Bolg mounted his own Warg, larger and stronger than the others.

Tauriel had learned this one was a female, for Orc leaders only rode on matriarchs so they could easily command the pack.

The beasts coursed through the snow, their large paws barely sinking into it. Their stride was fast.

Within minutes, they were already far away from Gundabad.

The area was surrounded by a large forest, dark and gloomy conifers as far as the eye could see. The frost of a harsh winter clung to their twisted branches.

The Elf breathed deeply, the smell of the nearby woods so different from the mountain air she knew so well from spending hours on the balcony. Having so much space around her, wandering between the trees as Bolg had obviously picked up a scent.

This was freedom.

This is what she had been deprived of for so long.

The Wargs slowed down as they advanced, also sniffing their surroundings. The place was so calm in the stillness of the night. They stopped after a moment and everything fell silent. The pines creaked lightly in the cold, there was barely any wind filtering through their needles.

Bolg readied his bow, listening attentively, smelling the air in deep breaths. Frosty mist came out of his crooked nostrils every time he exhaled.

Suddenly, a large buck stepped in front of them, momentarily paralyzed as it eyed the alerted Wargs.

Bolg's arrow hit the beast in the flank and, instantly, it bolted away.

Having lost none of her lightning reflexes nor her proficiency with a bow despite not using one for over a year, Tauriel quickly took a shot at the deer as well and hit it straight through the neck as it fled.

Now, it was certain, their prey would die quickly.

Bolg's attention was suddenly caught by a noise she failed to hear, he told her to track their kill, find where it would expire and wait for him there.

He kicked his mount and disappeared into the woods.

She watched him go away and raised her bow again, readying an arrow.

She knew she could strike him right through his skull from where she was.

Yet she chuckled, lowering her weapon as she shook her head.

Tempting as it was to kill him, she did as she was told and followed the deer's trail.

The Warg picked the scent and she could easily see its prints in the fresh snow along with the occasional red droplets.

She soon reached the beast, laying agonizing beneath a tree.

She got down from her mount and grasped at the deer's antlers, pressing a foot to its neck.

She snapped it and the animal died instantly.

There was no point in letting the creature suffer, but she knew if she used her dagger to cut its throat open, the scent of blood would surely attract unwanted attention.

As her Warg lay in the snow, she sat down close by, appreciating its warmth as she waited for Bolg's return.

She smiled, how foolish he was to leave her so.

She had weapons, clothes, she could easily take meat from the deer, mount again, and flee.

She could reach her Elven kin by going south.

For the first time since her capture, she had this golden opportunity at freedom.

Still she sat there, waiting.

She knew very well she could leave, just like she knew she could have killed him previously.

He had grown careless around her, he trusted her.

He loved her.

Tauriel laid down comfortably against the black fur of the beast behind her, staring at the stars in the sky over the dark and ominous branches of the firs surrounding her. They seemed to shine brighter than usual that night and she felt as if they sparkled so beautifully just for her in this moment.

Her heart was at peace.

She felt happy, fulfilled.

She would not leave.

She would not abandon their children.

She would not abandon him.

There was nothing for her to go back to.

The Elves would never look at her the same, her banishment was probably still in effect as well.

After spending over a year amongst Orcs, their presence no longer incommoded her.

She felt at home, they were her people now.

She thought of Bolg, of their Orclings, and she smiled, they brought her such happiness.

She was no longer an Elf.

She was something else.

Something entirely different.

A sudden noise startled her and she rose up, drawing her bow in a swift move, an arrow was ready in the blink of an eye, but she soon saw it was only Bolg finally rejoining her and she breathed easy.

"Are you thinking about killing me, love?" He chuckled as he dismounted, proudly brandishing the severed head of a Dwarf.

Tauriel grimaced at the sight, but still smiled at him. "You know I think about killing you all the time."

They shared a laugh before she inquired about his bloody trophy.

The Orc simply shrugged. "Dwarf spy, probably. Not surprising, it's been over a year since Erebor, the filth are trying to assess their chance again. I don't know what the little rats are plotting, but I will most definitely discuss this matter once father comes to visit. If the Dwarves are no longer cowering in the Iron Hills, it might be best for us to send them a warning."

Tauriel nodded, as far as she was concerned, Bolg's enemies were her enemies as well.

After attaching the head to his belt, he grabbed the deer and tied its legs up to haul it onto his Warg's back.

"This is a good kill." He said proudly and the Elf agreed, trailing her fingers upon the dead beast's hide one last time before mounting up again.

They both headed back to Gundabad with their prizes.

Tauriel even managed to shoot a hare as well along the way. The more meat they brought back, the better.

As the Wargs advanced, Bolg explained that, when his father would arrive to meet the whelps, they would have a great feast to celebrate their birth. "Celebrate our wedding too, we missed our anniversary." He added, chuckling.

Orcs cared very little about such things, those were Men's ways, but everyone knew a bit about their customs.

Still it amused Tauriel and she agreed they should commemorate the event.

The sky slowly covered itself with heavy clouds and a light snow started to fall. As the dark fortress came in sight, it looked rather enchanting in the peaceful weather.

Once back home with their quarry, she helped Bolg skin and dress the kills, cutting the meat, learning how to gut an animal. She thought it would have repulsed her, but she found it rather fascinating.

She had hunted before, of course, but never cleaned her own game. Even when she spent a long time in the wild, others did it, or they had lembas bread so there was no need for hunting. Elves did not eat much meat, always respectful of nature.

As soon as they were done, they spent the few hours of the night left with their little ones.

She loved to see Bolg playing with them, loved to see how such a rough and brutal monster could be so delicate and caring towards his spawn. Like a ravenous wolf with his little pups. He nuzzled them, licked them. They bit and tugged at his ears as they laughed.

She knew he would always keep them safe, just as she knew he would protect her too.

They went to sleep after the twins were fed and slumbered peacefully on the nearby pelts.

○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○

The next evening, Tauriel awoke as Bolg was still asleep, snoring ever so lightly.

She went to add more wood to the embers crackling in the fireplace before coming back to lay beside him. She glanced upon his features she once found so repulsive.

He didn't seem as ugly now, more like unfortunate. He had been disfigured in a fight, no doubt, and she tried to imagine what he might have looked like before part of his skull was replaced by metal. Surely he must have had a certain charm.

Even now, she had grown so accustomed to his face, she could see beauty in him. He was an Orc, yet she thought he was rather pleasing. She loved his childish smile, this hint of tender innocence in those big eyes too far apart. He was asleep right now, and his expression was entirely peaceful.

Long ago she had noticed he aimed to please in everything he did. Just as he strove to make his father proud, he strove to make her feel good and would pout when she expressed anger or sadness towards him. The cold cruelty he had shown her when they first met had all but disappeared. She thought it was because she had finally warmed up to him that he was kind to her now.

Had she been nice since the beginning, he would have probably been more amiable.

Orcs were simple creatures, you could win their trust by remaining cordial. The only difficulty lying in how used they had become to being hunted and killed. More often than not they attacked and slaughtered anyone without question. It was too risky to leave someone alive.

She had no reasons to quarrel with him now. He provided for her, he was kind, he was even tender. He had the lust of at least five men, but she could keep him satisfied. It no longer repulsed her, it felt so good, she no longer guilted herself over it.

She gazed at his powerful physique, those broad shoulders and slender waist, those toned arms and legs covered in a soft fuzz of dark hair. She trailed her fingers over the discoloured gashes where his armour would come into his flesh and sighed happily. Breathing in his scent, once a smell she found so revolting, it was now comforting and arousing.

She loved him.

She was not even ashamed to admit it now, she truly did love this big Orc. She would be devastated if something were to happen to him or their children. She was enamoured and felt so perfectly happy to be by his side.

She was thankful he had captured her, all the pain she had endured by his hand, it was nothing. It became a pleasant memory, she fondly remembered every bites, every wounds.

She was proud to be his wife.

Had she not been scared, had she not resisted, things would have happened so differently, but the end result would still be the same.

She pressed gentle kisses to his neck and up to the remains of his torn left ear, slowly stirring him from his fitful repose.

He turned around to face her, returning her caresses, he smiled as her delicate fingers grazed upon the metal in his head.

They just looked at each other for long minutes, enjoying the comfortable silence between them, until Tauriel's natural curiosity grew.

"How did you..." She could not actually say it, she instead gestured a bit towards the dark iron.

"Get my injury?" He finished her sentence with a chuckle.

She nodded shyly, barely expecting an answer.

"I can't recall. I fought a skinchanger, I know I had slain the beast, but I was to go down with him. I didn't feel the pain, I just knew I was wounded. Everything went black as I saw him collapse. Sometimes I think I can actually remember, but it's really just images put in my head from father describing the incident to me. I woke up a week later, I'd never felt this much pain all at once. I almost wanted to take my own life so it would stop. I was told the beast clawed a part of my skull away, broke my back, shattered my ribs. Our head healer, Relka, put me back together at Azog's command since life would not leave me. I sustained injuries that would have killed anyone, but by some miracle, I did not die. They had to fuse my bones together with metal, they fixed me. The pain was unbearable, but Relka has always been amazing. She was tending to the wounded even before my father was born. She's always been here and there's nothing she cannot fix. The midwife Aurzi is her descendant. I'm thankful to have survived this ordeal despite the immense suffering. Even to this day, I still feel some lingering pain, like a distant memory, it comes back. Depends on the weather, depends on the day, but it never fails to visit."

Bolg smiled as he sat up, stretching himself.

Tauriel noted a certain sadness in his eyes, mixed with the obvious gratitude to still be alive. She scooted closer to him, resting her head in his lap while trailing her frail fingers upon his open flesh.

He explained how Azog had been so afraid of losing him this time, he hunted every skinchanger, slaughtering as many as possible in blind revenge. Capturing them, torturing them. He shrugged uncomfortably, they were enemies, yes, but his father had always been quite the extremist.

Tauriel failed to notice his unease and hugged his waist. "You're lucky to be alive. I don't know anyone who would have survived this." She winced, trying to imagine how badly wounded he must have been.

Bolg only smiled, but without much enthusiasm. "I cannot die. So many occasions I should have been dead, still I survived. I was even born dead."

"Born dead?" The Elf's eyes widened as he nodded.

"A stillborn, yes. My parents were devastated. Father cast me aside to care for my mother who had just whelped. Apparently it was at least half an hour later that I started moving. See my eye?" He pointed to his blind one, entirely white. "They say that's because I was dead for so long. They have no idea how I came back to life. Azog knew I would be very strong." He snorted as he hugged his mate closer.

She could hardly believe it, he was one lucky Orc.

"And when did they give you this armour?" She inquired, trailing her fingers over his open gashes.

Bolg chuckled again. "After I was healed from the fight against the beast. The back part was already there, holding my spine together, but then I got the plates as well. It was a punishment, but it effectively turned my body into a weapon. Now I can grab anyone and make mincemeat out of them. It's good to cut your food before biting sometimes." Bolg bit at the air and his teeth clamped together in a sharp noise.

Tauriel straightened herself in his embrace. "A punishment?" She felt a sudden pity for him. Who would dare do such a thing?

However, the Orc nodded, seemingly happy. "I was very reckless in battle when I was younger, always getting injured, nearly dying numerous times. Father always said I should wear my armour and told me he ought to have it welded into my body so I would finally listen. After the incident, this is exactly what he ordered. I had to learn my place, had to stop being so careless. Our blacksmith forged it specifically for me. Relka cut me open and the heated metal was attached to my ribs, they're already mostly made of iron anyway. My flesh was seared and melted against it. The early model couldn't be removed. It was only years later that she cut me out of it. I took some time to heal up and then I got one that I could take off. I had grown quite fond of wearing it by that time, but it took months before I stopped hurting myself on this piece of junk." He laughed, giving a slight kick to the armour before him.

Tauriel hugged him closer, feeling faint from imagining such torture.

Still the Orc continued proudly. "Those claws on the shoulders, they're the paws of the skinchanger I killed. Father brought them back for me. They're my prize, my trophy. I am a hunter and I wear them with pride!" He beamed, puffing his strong chest before pointing at the wall before them. "See all that dried blood in the corner? That's where I got chained up and had my armour put on for the first time."

Tauriel winced, swallowing hard. "That must have been horribly painful! Your father is a monster. How could he request you to be hurt so much?"

The Orc simply shrugged. "I deserved this punishment, I am not resentful at all. It surely was not as painful as when he decided to cut himself open. I always boasted about being stronger than he was, yet I know I would never be able to survive all he had to endure in his life. This pain imposed on me was justified, it's a proof of my resilience and a reminder that I should be grateful and obedient towards him. Not only is he my father, he is also my king. If his son refuses to obey, then everybody soon will. I've been through worse pain than this. It just looks impressive because my blood splattered all over the place because I was cut open twice. I never bothered to clean up." He smiled.

Tauriel shared his amusement, although still uncomfortable, looking at the state of the entire room, dusty and strewn with bones. She took a deep breath as she slowly regained her composure. He was so strong and courageous, she couldn't help but love him. "It seems to me you never bothered to clean up anything."

"I clean myself only."

The Elf chuckled. "But you're always filthy! Your tongue does not keep you clean. What you need is a nice, long bath with a lot of soap!" She laughed as she straddled him, rubbing her hands onto his chest as if she were washing him.

Bolg squirmed. "Ah no, disgusting! I will lose my natural scent. I'm not a flower. I am an Orc! I keep the filth off my skin, that's more than enough. I don't need to smell good." He nonchalantly sniffed at his own armpit. "Besides, I do not even smell bad. You Elves don't smell like anything. I love your scent now, it's a lot better than when I first met you. You smell like a real woman. It's difficult to be in the mood to mate when you can only think of a flowery field." Bolg grinned wickedly as he suckled upon her round breasts, his fangs leaving pleasurable, inflamed welts into her sensitive skin as her nipples dripped with milk under his touch.

Moaning, she quickly reached for his hardness, stroking him vigorously through his loincloth. Now this would definitely cheer her up after such a sad tale.

"And are you in the mood to mate right now?" She cooed into his ear before liking at it, already knowing the answer.

The Orc shivered as he nibbled on her neck. "I'm always in the mood to mate." He purred as tiny Elven hands pulled his engorged shaft out, caressing its thick, meaty girth affectionately.

However, their passion was cut short when suddenly a deep, booming voice was heard.

"Bolg!"

Tauriel giggled. "I believe that's your father calling." She couldn't contain her laughter as her lover let out a long growl.

"He has a great sense of timing." He snarled as he struggled to fit his swollen member back into its confines. His failure to do so made the Elf snicker all the more.

"He'll grow impatient!

"I'm not going to meet my father with an erection!" Bolg whimpered helplessly.

"Think of something unpleasant!" Tauriel suggested, still very much amused as she tried to help him back into his loincloth.

"If you think mere unpleasantries are enough to quell an Orc's lust, you are sorely mistaken!" He hissed as Azog called again, more urgently this time. "I'm coming!" Bolg shouted back. "I can't believe this!" He spat as they both finally managed to make him more decent, although his arousal was still rather obvious. He was visibly embarrassed, much to Tauriel's amusement.

"Just wait here for a moment." She cooed as she left the room. She had grown so accustomed to being amongst Orcs, it was only when she faced the Defiler that she suddenly felt utterly intimidated. Especially after the story she had just been told, he seemed all the more menacing to her.

His pale eyes stared in her direction, unimpressed. He wouldn't have recognized her had he not been informed that she had borne his son's progeny. She was much different from the scared little Elf he had briefly seen in Erebor over a year ago.

Tauriel stammered a bit in Orcish, shyly explaining the situation, trying to remain as decent and subtle as possible as her cheeks reddened. She humbly looked at her feet, feeling extremely uncomfortable. She didn't even know how she was supposed to address him. After all, he was a king, but Bolg had never explained their customs regarding such situation.

Azog was surprised to hear her speak their language despite her lack of formality towards him. Truly, she had adapted well to her new life. Perhaps his son had not made such a bad choice after all.

"You have ten minutes." He finally grunted as he turned around and left.

Tauriel sighed in relief, she had worried he would become upset and strike her. She headed back to their room, skipping happily upon the stone floor. "He says we have ten minutes, think you can finish that fast?" She giggled.

Bolg beamed and pulled his painful erection back out. "I'll try my best."


End file.
